#those locks of hair around her face are integral to her looks

[cosmicharm]

The Perfect Girl

[darkficlord69]

Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected sex, 18+ language, death, character death, angst, sadness, not proofread

Cregan Stark was indubitably a wolf: ever since he sprang up from his mother's northern womb he had a savage attitude kept in place by his house's sterling reputation for personal integrity. But when his gaze locked onto yours, all semblance of restraint evaporated from his big muscled body like a snowflake slowly melting under the hot sun. When he met you, he felt like a starved animal ready to pounce, to hunt, to eat something so positively delicious that it would satisfy him to no end...

Despite having lived your whole pampered life on Dragonstone, under your mother's constant and loving supervision, you felt at home in the snow covered Winterfell. And when you descended from your mauve scaly beast with a wingspan bigger than the tallest watchtower in Deepwood Motte, you shivered although you were drowning in thick layers of fur and wool. That is, because you met Cregan. He looked at you with an intesity that was at odds with the iciness of the climate and you could do little but avert your gaze to avoid losing yourself in those stormy grey eyes that twinkled with desire.

"My lord, it is an honor," you curtsied clumsily due to your heavy attire but Cregan quickly put a hand on yours to help stabilize you and prevent you from falling face-first in the snow.

"The honor is all mine, my princess," he replied in a husky voice that almost brought tears to ths corners of your eyes. Whatever passed between you was a dangerous thing, hotter than fire, yet fickler than a shard of thin ice.

"I hope your journey was pleasant," he said.

"Oh, definitely, my lord of Winterfell. Now, I believe the politics and scheming can wait for the morrow, but riding Kocsaryon has made my belly rumble in hunger. A feast is in order, if it please you."

Cregan gave a curt nod and led you to the Main Hall, where a feast had already been laid out. The long wooden tables groaned under the weight of hearty soups for each heart, each dish more decadent than the last, the aromas mingling in the air like a seductive promise of indulgence.

At the center of the hall stood a massive boar, its skin crisp and golden, crackling with fat that had been painstakingly rendered over hours of slow roasting. It was stuffed with onions, apples, and a medley of herbs that filled the air with their heady scent. The juices ran clear as it was carved, pooling on the thick wooden platters beneath, where hunks of dark meat were passed around to eager hands.

Beside it, platters of venison, seasoned with juniper and garlic, had been seared to perfection, the meat tender and pink within, the crust dark and fragrant. Roasted root vegetables, earthy and sweet, nestled alongside them, their edges caramelized to a rich mahogany.

A serving girl approached Cregan to clear away a platter of untouched meat and your eyes darkened when her hair brushed against Stark's shoulder.

You stuffed yourself until your belly groaned and then you chanced a glance again at Cregan who was watching as you cleaned your fingers by putting them in your mouth and slowly sucking in a suggestive gesture that was meant as a provocative invitation. Lord Stark's eyes hardened with unmistakable lust and he rose abruptly, mumbling excuses to confused guests. He promptly grabbed your hand and led you outside.

"If you will follow me, my lady. I have something to show you."

By the time you left the warmth of the Great Keep, you were wholly intrigued by this escapade. Cregan knelt before the weirwood tree that seemed to weep blood as you joined him in prayer.

"So, are going to..." No sooner had you started to ask your question, than Cregan's lips were on yours, kissing you with a ferocious intensity that went beyond mere words. His expert tongue left a trail of saliva down the column of your neck, your jaw... He licked and sucked like a newborn wolf pup, but his groans were the howl of a fully grown member of the pack.

"Oh, gods!" you yelled, uncaring of who may hear.

He quickly disrobed you, your smallclothes thrown far, far away and then you were naked beneath his lord's piercing gaze, trembling with anticipation as heat pooled between your legs.

"Cregan, pleaaase!"

The night beneath the godswood was a symphony of passion and primal need. The ancient trees stood silent witness as you and Cregan came together, your bodies intertwining with an intensity that left you both breathless. The air was cold, biting even, but the heat in your lower stomach was enough to ward off the chill for a time.

He kissed you with a fervor that spoke of years of restraint finally unleashed. His hands, rough and calloused from a lifetime of wielding swords and axes, were surprisingly gentle as they roamed your body, tracing every curve and dip as if committing you to memory. You shivered beneath his touch, but it wasn't from the cold. It was from the raw power and the undeniable hunger in his eyes, the kind that made you feel like the only thing in the world that mattered.

As the night deepened, the cold crept closer, seeping into your bones. But you were too lost in him, too lost in the way he made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before. You clung to him, seeking warmth and comfort in the strength of his embrace, in the heat of his body pressed against yours.

But the North was unforgiving. The warmth of passion was no match for the biting cold of the northern winter. Even as Cregan held you close, his hairy body shielding you from the worst of the elements, the chill began to seep into your skin, turning your breath to fog and your lips to ice.

Cregan sensed it before you did, the way your shivers became more violent, more uncontrollable. He pulled back, his brow furrowing in concern as he looked into your eyes, now glassy with the onset of hypothermia. His heart clenched painfully in his chest at the sight.

"You're freezing," he murmured, his voice rough with worry. He pulled you closer, trying to rub warmth back into your limbs, but it was too late. The cold had already taken hold, and no amount of heat from him could chase it away.

You tried to smile, tried to reassure him that you were fine, but the words caught in your throat, your lips too numb to form them. You could feel the warmth of life slipping away, could feel the darkness creeping in at the edges of your vision. But you didn't want to let go, not when you were here, in his arms, where you had always dreamed of being.

"Cregan..." you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "I'm sorry..."

His eyes widened in horror as he realized what was happening. "No," he growled, shaking his head. "No, don't you dare leave me."

But you were already slipping away, your body going limp in his arms. The last thing you felt was the warmth of his tears on your face, the last thing you heard was the desperate, broken sound of his voice calling your name, begging you to stay.

When the dawn broke, the godswood was silent, the snow around you undisturbed save for the imprint of Cregan's body beside yours. He held you tightly, even as the life had long since fled from your body, refusing to let go, refusing to accept that you were gone.

The godswood bore witness to many things over the centuries, but the sight of the Lord of Winterfell, the fearsome wolf of the North, cradling the lifeless body of the one he loved, was something that would linger in its memory forever.

For Cregan Stark, the godswood would never again be a place of peace, but a place of sorrow, a reminder of the warmth he had once held in his arms and the cold that had stolen it away.

Guyss, this is my first fic! 🫣 Please let me know what you think so that I can improve my work 🐺🌙💫 Thanks for reading! 💝

[vodika-vibes]

Hey vodika!

Congrats on your follower milestone!

Could I request f!Jedi reader x Sev

Garnet

Autumn evening

Thank you! Love you! Xx

Forever

Summary: Of all of the things that Sev hates in the universe, watching his Jedi get hurt tops the list.

Pairing: Clone Commando Sev x Reader

Word Count: 777

Warnings: Reader is seriously injured here, though I didn't detail how she was hurt. Reader is described as formerly having long hair.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I tried my best with this, but it's not easy to write when you can't focus for longer than a few minutes at a time. I'm sorry if it's not quite what you wanted. If you don't like it you can send another request and I'll write something when I'm not sick.

Sev knows that he’s not the gentlest of men. He knows that he’s quick to anger and that he enjoys violence just a little too much for most people to want to put up with. Sure, his own batchmates know that sometimes he says those things simply because it gets reactions.

But most of their brothers don’t.

He doesn’t mind it. He gets along better with his batchmates over anyone else anyway. Well, his batchmates and their jedi.

His Jedi.

She was a surprise addition to Delta Squad shortly after the war began. Someone who was supposed to manage their mission loads and help them so they could take more dangerous missions. 

And she quickly integrated herself into Delta Squad. She was careful to not step on Boss’ toes, listened to Scorch’s jokes, redirected Fixer when he was being his most ornery, and was able to temper the worst of his temper.

How could Sev not fall in love with her?

And Sev has never been the type of man to tiptoe around things like feelings, so he told her as soon as he knew that he loved her. He fully expected her to turn him down, but she surprised him by releasing a musical laugh, and agreeing to go on a date with him to see where this leads.

That was nearly a year ago now, and somehow Sev is still able to claim her as his girlfriend. Somehow, because he thought for sure that she would kick him to the curb months ago.

His gaze drifts from his rifle, which he’s been cleaning, to his Jedi.

They’re holed up in a Jedi Safehouse, and his brothers are out trying to find a way off this planet, while Sev chose to remain behind to look after their barely conscious Jedi. 

It’s a shame she hasn’t been able to enjoy the planet properly. His Jedi loves this type of weather, when it’s cool and the leaves have started to change. Sweater weather, she calls it.

Though, she’s not saying much of anything at the moment.

She’s nearly gray-faced, and her layers of robes have been removed and replaced by bandages. Her hair had been shorn into a much shorter style, due to the sheer amount of matting that they hadn’t been able to fix-

And then she stirs, her fingers flexing against the thick blanket granting her some modesty.

Sev swallows hard and sets his rifle to the side, before he stands and walks over to her carefully settling himself on the floor near her cot. Her pretty eyes flutter open and focus on his face, “Sev-” She mumbles his name, and she lifts her hand, which he catches and threads her fingers with his own.

“Hey there, Pretty Girl.” He replies, “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“-where?”

“We’re still on the same planet,” He explains as he gently squeezes her hand, “The others are out looking for a way out.”

She tries to sit up, but Sev is quick to push her back prone, “I should be helping them-”

“You need to rest.” Sev insists. 

“But, it’s not safe.” She tries.

“Hey,” He waits until her pretty eyes are locked on him, “No one here is going to hurt them. We’ve already killed anyone who might try.”

She blinks at him.

Sev smiles wryly and he brings his free hand up to rest against her bruised face, “They had you, cyar’ika. They had you and they were hurting you, there was no other option.”

She sighs softly, and she turns her head to kiss the palm of his hand, “I don’t deserve you.” she mumbles.

Sev just laughs, “I think that’s supposed to be my line.” All of the tension has drained from his body now that she’s awake and talking, “You deserve far better than me. It’s a shame that I’m not so good a person to just walk away and let another person have you.”

She lightly squeezes his fingers, “All I want is you, though.”

“You have terrible taste in men.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Slowly, Sev brushes some of her hair out of her face, “No one is ever going to hurt you again, cyar’ika. I promise.”

She smiles at him, soft and warm, and Sev leans in to press his lips lightly against hers, pulling away just as quickly as he leaned in. “Now, get some more rest. As soon as we have a ship, you’re going to take a nap in a bacta tank.”

She just sighs, “Will you stay?”

Sev brings their joined hands to his lips, and presses a light kiss to her knuckles, “Forever.”

[melonchanverse]

An ask for Miyako, our alien girl ✨

night, face, and favorite!

miyako now almost has her own fan club damn…

if you wanna leave an ask - 👽

night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?

Despite her love for fashion, Miyako's sleepwear couldn't be more different. In the privacy of her home, she favors comfort above all else. You're more likely to find her in a cozy oversized t-shirt and a pair of soft, well-worn sweatpants. She values the freedom to lounge in comfort after a day of putting on a creative front for the world. Nighttime is her time to shed layers, both literal and metaphorical.

face: Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them?

Miyako's face is a canvas of vibrant warmth. A genuine smile graces her lips, effortlessly captivating the attention of those around her. Her eyes, a vivid green, hold a sparkle of curiosity and a hint of a mischievous twinkle. Strands of shimmering blonde hair frame her face, adding to her charm. Her features radiate vivacity and a zest for life, making it difficult to look away from her animated expressions and contagious joy.

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

Miyako's favorite accessory is a set of star-shaped hairpins. She wears them frequently, often adorning her locks with a touch of whimsical flair, whether it's a casual day or a special occasion. The star-shaped pins have become an integral part of her style, adding a personal touch to her already eclectic fashion sense.

[silversatoru]

Yandere Megumi is so mean </3 it's confusing because he was such a romantic at first! always there, always checking in, always present. but really he was just planning -- finding every checkpoint of your life and formulating how to break them down bit by bit. it's a shame you start to feel suffocated, it's a shame you call him a control freak, it's a shame you kick him out of your house and slam the door. he didn't want to pull out every ace he had but you didn't give him a choice. now he's gotta make you crawl back to him because by the end of his crusade, he'll be the only thing you'll have left <3

yandere!megumi x f!reader

t/w: nsfw 18+, dark content, yandere, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, abuse, mind break, dollification, electro, caging, dacryphilia

a/n: thank u kat i LOVE u for this one

yandere!megumi who lays his eyes on you for the first time when you come innocently walking into his favorite sandwich shop. it was obsession at first sight, the way his brain hay-wired when he watched you order a sandwich with turkey, roasted peppers, and brie. he’d remember that.

yandere!megumi who charmingly strikes up a conversation with you as the two of you coincidentally walk out of the shop at the same time. he scores your number, you’re intrigued by his messy hair and empty eyes — both parties are content with their morning trip to the sub shop.

yandere!megumi who takes you on the most endearing first date — how’d he know how much you love carnivals? it must be meant to be. and oh how he hates the carnival, the messy people and the cheap greasy food, he despises it, but he does it for you.

yandere!megumi who wins you a large stuffed panda bear at one of the game stalls — have you mentioned to him that those are your favorite animal? you must have, and he’s so sweet for remembering.

yandere!megumi who continues to take you out on the best dates, always catering to your interests and remembering every detail you tell him about everything. he’s sweet, he’s attentive, and he gives you all the attention you could ever dream of — it’s no wonder that you start to spend all your time with him.

yandere!megumi who gets irritated when your friends start to steal you away from him. you’ve been so busy lately, y/n! let’s go out to lunch and catch up! they always send you the most annoying texts. and you actually wanna go? why can’t you just be content with him?

yandere!megumi who starts to get visibly angry when you spend time with other people. who gets jealous when you want to put time into your job and your school work. what do you need a master’s degree for when you have him? he’ll take care of you. you don’t need anything else.

yandere!megumi who starts to take your phone and tell people you’re busy — responding to texts from your friends while you’re in the bathroom or taking a nap. he’s discreet, deleting the messages after he’s done, but eventually you piece it together.

yandere!megumi who’s world flips upside down when you tell him you need some “space”. when you call him a “creep” and a “control freak”. when you kick him out of your house and tell him to never come back. if only that were the end of it, if only it were that easy.

yandere!megumi who wasn’t paying attention to every detail of your life for no reason. who knows the name of your boss, the college you attend, the contact information of your friends. who payed attention to your stories from work, the mistakes you’ve made and covered up — to the website you used to buy answers for your exams — to the complaints you made about each of your friends.

yandere!megumi who has meticulously planned out every single thread of his plan, who will rip you apart from the inside out until you’re crawling to his door. who sends your boss anonymous emails about the time you hooked up with one of your clients — which was terribly unprofessional in his opinion. who forwards your stolen exam answers to your college and expresses his concern about your “lack of academic integrity”. who tells your friends the things you’ve said about them — who doesn’t hesitate to threaten their own lives when they act stubbornly.

yandere!megumi who’s not surprised when you show up at his door crying, black streaks painting your tired face. who asks “what’s wrong?” and says “poor girl, sounds like you’ve been through a lot”. who has you right back in his hands in a matter of days — it was really too easy.

yandere!megumi who offers you his help — he’s so generous and it’s more than you deserve. after all you’re just a good for nothing whore who slept with her professional client, who was cheating her way through exams, and who occasionally talked shit about her friends behind their backs. you were a failure, fired from work, being threatened with expulsion, and none of your friends wanted anything to do with you. he was so kind for offering you his help.

yandere!megumi who doesn’t tolerate disobedience, and who won’t forget the first time you pushed him away. who will ensure that you never get away again.

yandere!megumi who resorts to cages and chains when you start to put the pieces together — when your eyes widen and you call him “crazy”. who keeps you locked up in his house in the most figurative and literal sense at all times now.

yandere!megumi who slowly gets more and more twisted, locking a shock collar around your neck and delivering sharp volts of electricity to your skin every time you misbehave. every time you speak back. every time you try to escape.

yandere!megumi who has needs, who forces you on your knees and shoves his cock down your scratchy throat. you give him what he wants, you hardly ever fight back anymore. you’re such a good girl.

yandere!megumi who will break you down until there’s nothing left. until you’re so braindead from the electricity, the dehydration, and the extreme exhaustion of sleeping in a cage or shackled to a wall.

yandere!megumi who has you whining and crying into his neck, the walls of your cunt pulsating around his cock at least once a day. he loves the way you cry for him, brainless tears spilling down your cheeks while he stuffs you full with his length.

yandere!megumi who bandages up your scrapes and bruises right after he’s done giving them to you. who dresses you in nothing but his own big t-shirts and a pair of pretty panties. who doesn’t care when you cry and shiver all night because he won’t turn the heat on either.

yandere!megumi who has shriveled your soul and destroyed every inkling of who you once were. who’s turned you into a mindless pet, a toy, a collectible. who’s so proud to see how perfect you turned out, that all his effort was very well worth it.

yandere!megumi who littered your life with red flags when the two of you first met, but they all looked a pretty shade of pink through your rose-colored glasses. if only you’d been a bit more perceptive, payed a little more attention, not been so honest with him. maybe then you wouldn’t be curled into a tight ball on a steel-floored crate shivering and crying and waiting for megumi to get home and fill you up with his warmth.

yandere!megumi who is the only thing you have to look forward to anymore, and that’s exactly how he likes it.

[aminiatureworld]

Enigmatic Feelings

Characters: Albedo, Diluc, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,544

Warnings: None

Premise: Love is a potent force. And sometimes little things take on larger meanings, especially when one party is unaware of them.

In which the reader’s s/o is jealous

Author’s Note: This trope is 100% my guilty pleasure. I hope I did it justice.

I also realized while writing this that all these characters have the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, but they’re trying their best, so that’s what counts.

Albedo

Albedo was many things. A great alchemist, a man of secrets, a weapon with which one might someday bring destruction. He was even a lover, albeit an unpracticed one. But what he was not was emotional. Or so he thought.

Of course Albedo knew what jealousy was, knew the sort of stupidity that people could fall into when altogether too infatuated with their own love. But just because one knows what jealousy is does not mean one must fall prey to such things. Or so Albedo assumed.

It was the fourth day in a row that a knight had approached your door. Friedrich was his name, and he was doing a stellar job at capturing your attention, and pulling on emotions that Albedo had long told himself he didn’t contain.

Today the flower was a Windwheel Aster, swaying this way and that in the pocket of space between your two hands. You were smiling at it, or rather at Friedrich, brightly, fingers mere moments away from Friedrich as you went to claim the fourth flower this week. Though the was nothing necessarily untoward in Friedrich’s movements, and Albedo would much rather a person of integrity be attempting to woo you, even if the idea itself turned knots in his stomach; nevertheless it still left a bad taste in the alchemist’s mouth, and a worry in his heart that he was not so immune to jealousy as he’d previous assumed.

“Thank you!” You spoke to Friedrich, giving one last wave before walking back over to Albedo. “Albedo look! It’s a Windwheel Aster. It’s very nice of Friedrich to give me one, maybe I can use it, or maybe it’ll be helpful for your experiments?”

“Yes, thank you. I, I think you should keep it.”

As much as Albedo wanted to take the flower and throw it in the incinerator, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter the smile on your face. No matter how dearly it cost him to see you smile down once more at the delicate red petals. And no matter how much it haunted him the rest of the day to imagine you, face framed by a smile, a bouquet of a random knight’s making in your hands.

That knight as Albedo put away the Bunsen burners and the graduated cylinders he kept his mind preoccupied by thoughts of you. Surely he had to tell you his feelings, for if not they would keep building in his chest; building and building until one day he erupted, with you in the line of fire rather than the knight who was creating this whole dilemma, perhaps even unwittingly. Though Albedo had never been in a relationship before he knew stories. Weren’t books full of those kinds of moments? Men, women, people, all of them running over one another in their misunderstanding, in their overwhelming guilt.

No, he wouldn’t turn out like that, wouldn’t let the two of you be hurt in such a way. He had to tell you. Had to make you understand how much his chest constricted when he saw you carrying the gifts of others, had to let it be known before he lost control of these emotions. After all, wasn’t that what happened with emotions? They grow and grow and one day they spill over. And Albedo never wanted these emotions to spill over. No matter the cost.

“May I tell you something?”

The sunlight was streaming through the laboratory windows, the air warm enough that Sucrose had tied up her hair during her shift. And yet Albedo felt cold, oh so cold. He was going to tell you today. He hadn’t been able to tell you three days ago, nor two days ago, nor yesterday. And now the bouquet of flowers that occupied a tiny glass on the windowsill felt quite large indeed. Today would be day eight if Friedrich showed up at lunchtime, and before that Albedo would tell you.

“Of course you can Albedo, I’m all ears!”

You turned around, a soft smile once more spreading across your face. Putting down the pencil you’d been holding you leaned back against the lab table. Albedo took in a deep breath. He could do this. He would do this. He had to do this. No matter what, today. Today, he would do this.

“I-I’m jealous.” The words hung in the air for a moment, as if not understood.

“Jealous?” You tilted your head slightly, worry making your smile slip. “Albedo, jealous of what?”

“Of Friedrich, of you and Friedrich, or rather, I mean, of Friedrich giving you flowers.” Albedo paused, words tangling in his mouth, tripping on each other in an attempt to be understood. What if this was a mistake.

“Albedo,” you shook you head softly, walking over to cup your partner’s face, “I promise that there’s nothing in it. The flowers are lovely, of course, but nothing in this world could replace or stem my love for you. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know,” Albedo replied hurriedly, worried still that he might be misunderstood, “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything, or say that I doubt you. My love, I will never doubt you. I just, I just feel so uncomfortable when he brings you flowers. It feels like, like I don’t know; it feels like I’m being poisoned, suddenly and all at once. And I don’t want it to affect the way I act towards you. So, so I wanted to tell you. You don’t have to stop, if those flowers make you happy then that’s what matters. But, but I just wanted to tell you.”

You said nothing, staring into Albedo’s eyes, gaze piercing through the alchemist. It was always that way with you. How you managed to destroy the control he thought he had, the wall he’d erected between himself and humanity. How you made him feel unsure and fallible and whole. And, just as before, now your gaze softened and you shook your head, your smile a balm for the raw unfamiliarity of putting together emotions.

“It’s okay Albedo, I’m glad you told me. Just like my emotions matter to you, I’d rather not see you unhappy. To be honest, I just never saw Friedrich’s actions in the way that he probably meant them. We all struggle with our feelings sometimes, I do just like you. Just as long as well tell each other, all will be well. Alright?”

“Yes. Thank you. I don’t know what I do without you.”

“Well you’ll never have to find out, so it doesn’t matter!”

There was no eighth flower that day, at least not one that was successfully given. Albedo supposed that he could pity Friedrich, but in reality he felt nothing but relief. The emotions that had left such a bad taste in his mouth seemed so far away now, for there was you, only you. It would only ever be you for him, and the days in which you said the same thing of him Albedo felt as if he could truly be happy, and truly acknowledge the emotions that swirled inside him, the love for you so great it spilled over into a vast ocean.

 Diluc

Diluc found most merchants loathsome, something perhaps not entirely fair considering his own status as a mover of goods.

Still, merchants in general were an unlikeable bunch. Prone to complacency and greed, this elite circle was comprised of people who thought of little than of ways to line their pockets anew. It disgusted Diluc and as he stood there, watching as a man who had enough jewelry on his body to weigh down a pack mule and a smile that made one want to run in the other direction, throw compliments and boasts your way, the winery owner was reminded about all that was wrong with the world in which he worked.

“So your goal is to attempt to find a route through which we might trade our wine in Inazuma?” You repeated the words the man had just spoken, expression skeptical. “As much as it would mean good business to begin another trade route, I believe the border restrictions will cause no little difficulty.”

“Restrictions such as those are nothing for a man like me.” The merchant smile once more and Diluc felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. “I have the ability to wave past such an issue. Indeed with the right price I believe I could expand your network to include all of the seven major lands, if you haven’t been trading internationally.”

“Thank you for your offer.” You replied, too focused on the work in front of you to notice the merchant’s roving sort of gaze. “I’ll see what Master Diluc has to say. However I warn you, as much as international exports are important for a growing trade, smuggling wine into locked countries will do little good. Especially considering what the damage could do to this winery’s reputation if such a thing was found out.”

“Don’t worry, I assure you my methods are completely secure. In fact, if you’d like to discuss it in more depth, I do believe that I may be able to enlighten you over a meal.”

“Perhaps, although Master Diluc would certainly have to be there.” You smiled slightly, and Diluc wondered for a moment if you were being purposefully oblivious or simply didn’t notice the meaning behind the merchant’s words.

“I will be back tomorrow, perhaps you’ll have an answer then?”

“I’m sure I will.” You replied, smiling as the two of you shook hands. As the merchant walked out of the winery your smile morphed into a sort of smirk and you looked up towards the balcony of the second floor.

“You can come out now Diluc, I know you’re there.”

Diluc couldn’t help but smile at those words, he truly couldn’t get anything past you. Hurrying down the stairs he swept you up in his arms, sighing slightly into your neck as you tightened the embrace.

“Ever so observant, my darling.”

“I know that you’d never let a transaction or a business conversation take place without your knowledge.” There was a playfulness to your voice, coming from the knowledge that you were utterly correct. “Still, you could’ve come downstairs you know. I don’t think that anyone would need to believe that you were going through your ‘very important paperwork, and lurking around is your night job.’”

“It seemed somehow wrong to suddenly appear in front of you two and derail the conversation.” Diluc drew away and placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose, chuckling when you immediately wrinkled it. “Especially since you were doing so well on your own.”

“Oh he’s just like the rest of them,” you sighed, “altogether a bit too full of themselves.”

“Especially in this one’s case.” Diluc said, finally letting a scowl cross his face.

“What do you mean?”

The look on your face was one of innocence and confusion, and for a moment Diluc felt his thoughts stammer, as he realized that you truly were unaware of the way that the merchant was looking at you, unaware of the manner which caused Diluc even now to continue to press his hand gently against your lower back. If you didn’t notice it, then surely Diluc was overreacting, surely there was no reason for his heart to stutter and his stomach to drop. Surely there was no reason, and surely he shouldn’t tell you.

“Nothing at all, I just didn’t like his face.” He hurried now to reply, realizing how odd his pause must’ve seemed. “Will you be accepting his proposal for a business dinner?”

“I’m not sure. I suppose it couldn’t hurt. And then it might be a good venue for the two of you to talk. Since you find him especially ghastly, I think a more public meeting might be easier.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t think that invitation was meant for me.” Diluc replied, before realizing his gaffe and falling silent.

“What? What do you mean of course it’s meant for you. I mean you are the owner of the Winery. Who else would it be for?”

“For, for you my darling. Why else would he ask you in such a way?” Diluc tried to keep the acid out of his words. It wasn’t your fault after all. It wasn’t your fault that some louche was asking after you.

“But I’m not the one in charge.” You furrowed your brow. “I can’t make the final decision. And I won’t allow him to attempt to bypass getting your permission either.”

“My darling, I, I think he meant it a different way.”

“What way?”

Diluc sighed, capitulating quickly to his want to tell you. Even if it was perhaps selfish of him, he was never truly good at keeping his feelings masked away, at least in a way that didn’t result in him completely shutting down. And you meant to much to him than for Diluc to try and lie to you.

“You see, I think he was attempting to ask you on a more romantic sort of dinner.”

“What?”

Your reaction was immediate, your expression quickly turning into one of shock and then of disgust. Letting out a groan you buried your face into the front of Diluc’s coat, eliciting a short laugh from its owner.

“Why? I… I… Even if I weren’t in love with you I’d never go out to dinner with him.”

“I don’t think he would appreciate the sentiment.”

“Diluc.” You let out another groan, shaking your head as if to rid yourself of the thought. “Archons, ugh thank you for telling me. I, disgusting.”

Diluc said nothing, simply tightening the hold of his arms around you. Though your reaction was certainly justifiable he knew there was something more behind them, and he felt grateful for your consideration. Though he knew that would always have been your reaction, it didn’t stop the pressure that ha been building in his chest, the thoughts that screamed what if, what if, what if. What if there is something better than you.

“Hey, are you alright?” You voice drifted up through the fabric of Diluc coat. He smiled, relaxing his grasp around you and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“I will be. May I hold you a little longer?”

“Of course. You’re the only one for me, you know.”

“And you for me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Those words, though so small, were somehow enough.

 Xiao

The new guest at the inn had been speaking to you for quite some time. That was Xiao’s first observation. The second was that you didn’t seem to mind. The third was that for some reason he suddenly felt incredibly irritated.

It was a beautiful evening, the kind that would’ve normally had you and Xiao sitting on the roof together, fingers entwined, the silence of nature cushioning the two of your from the outside world. It was a ritual, something that Xiao had come to rely on, had come to almost sanctify. Yet here he was, sitting on one of the thicker branches of the trees that dotted the outside of the Inn, trying desperately to quench the anger that bloomed in his chest as he watched you and the guest talk the minutes away.

Perhaps the worst part was that you didn’t seem to mind. Instead of pulling the conversation towards a close, you seemed perfectly content to keep talking, smiling brightly and quickly answering the questions of this uninvited guest. Normally Xiao didn’t care about , or rather didn’t keep track of, the people you spoke to. Of course you would have friends, would have people that mattered to you. Just because Xiao had disconnected himself from humanity didn’t mean that you had to. So why was he so angry?

His patience ran out when the guest reached for your hand. Sidling next to you as fast as he could Xiao peeled off his invisibility, enjoying the shock that registered across the uninvited guest’s face as he moved his hand back. Reaching to entwine his hand with yours Xiao shifted his gaze towards your face. Shock was painted into your expression, but there was also something else, a glimmer of happiness or of satisfaction. Somehow it unnerved Xiao, and he focused instead on the task at hand, whatever that task was.

“It’s getting late.”

“Oh, of course.” Turning back to the guest you smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but perhaps we’ll speak again some other time?”

“Gladly!” The man’s face lit up, before Xiao’s glaring left him scampering down the steps.

“Xiao, is something wrong?” The question was so genuine, without any sense of knowing more than you let. Unfortunately the question was also unanswerable.

“It’s late. We should go.” Xiao gestured towards the roof, hoping the reminder would flush the question out of your head.

“You’re right, I suppose it is getting late. And we wouldn’t want to waste such a wonderful evening.” You smiled. And yet somehow Xiao felt unplacated. He was happy, wasn’t he? So why, why did the question hang in the air, and why did the discontent remain?

The next day was a lazy one, as Xiao waited for you to be done with work. More than usual he missed you, and he wished that the hours would go faster, so he might be able to once more enjoy your presence, to banish the discontent that he still felt, evening after an hour spent wholly in your company.

Eventually the sun made its descent from the heavens, and Xiao pulled himself once more to the perch on the tree he’d taken the night before. Gazing down at the balcony he saw the familiar figure of the unwanted guest, and a stab of anger flashed through him. This was made all the worse by your entrance, and the fact you once more stopped to make time for this intruder.

The man was just as insufferable as before, full of jokes that Xiao didn’t understand and words that though praising of you felt somewhat hollow, almost insulting. You laughed along to these jokes, smiled at these odd compliments. And when the man asked if you might be willing to talk more over some sort of meal you merely smiled.

Xiao, however, found the whole ordeal unbearable. Why should this person be asking all these things, be prying you with words of intimacy and familiarity. Had he not arrived yesterday? Was he not an utter stranger? Confusion mixed with irritation in Xiao’s head, and he found it difficult to hold on to the stony reason he’d built up. What was going on? What was this terrible feeling of anger and want? He couldn’t understand human ways. Less could he understand why they should have any sort of effect on him.

Still he had to do something. Had to do anything. Swooping down once more Xiao began the same charade. This time, however, the man merely jumped, and for all his glaring Xiao couldn’t dislodge the guest from his place on the balcony.

“It’s late.”

“Ah it is. Are you hungry?” He asked, addressing you once more.

“I’m not at all, but Xiao’s right. It is late. If you haven’t eaten yet then perhaps you should. Smiley Yanxiao is quite strict about his rest.”

“Ah, then perhaps you’re right. Still, why not join me? You can tell me your name, and we can talk a little more about the things you do.”

“You don’t even know their name.” Xiao spat out the sentence, barely able to contain the odd sort of irritation that still spun around him. He asked you all those questions, said all those words of praise, all without knowing your name. It felt somehow dehumanizing, somehow… wrong.

“I would be glad to learn it.” The man smiled.

Xiao simply shook his head. He needed to leave. It was becoming too much again, and the last thing Xiao wanted was for a stranger to see him this way, see him unsure and confused and not a little frightened of these alien emotions. Glaring at the man one more time Xiao scooped you up. Ignoring the surprised shriek that you let out he shot up into the sky, moving towards the familiar sanctuary of Jueyen Karst, deeply grateful that the guest, whatever he could do, could never fly.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” You asked, barely giving Xiao the time to set you down onto one of Liyue’s sloping peaks before asking him the one question he couldn’t answer.

“Nothing.”

“Well it’s certainly not nothing. You’re being awfully rude to that guest, and I can’t understand why. Usually you don’t really care about those sorts of things. So something must be wrong, and I want to know what it is.”

A pause.

“Please.”

“I can’t.” It was all Xiao could say, the only thing that would truly encompass the truth, because in truth he couldn’t. He himself didn’t understand it.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“My chest hurts.”

“What?” Immediately your face shifted into one of worry, and you placed a soft hand over Xiao’s heart. Somehow the gesture was calming, and Xiao closed his eyes, enjoying the receding of the hot bands that had just been restricting him.

“My chest hurt when I saw you with that, that guest. My chest hurt and I felt angry. That’s what’s wrong. My chest hurt, but now it doesn’t; and I don’t understand it.”

There was a pause, and Xiao studied the expressions on your face, watched as they shifted from worry to confusion to caution.

“Xiao, is it possible you were jealous?”

“No.” The idea was somehow insulting.

“It’s alright to be jealous Xiao. It just means you care about someone very much. You don’t have to just dismiss it like that. I want to make sure that you’re alright, so please be honest. Is it possible you were jealous?”

Xiao let another gap form in the conversation, trying to figure out how to answer. The suggestion felt demeaning, felt as if he somehow had no control over himself, no trust of you. And yet it somehow made sense, and even as he shook his head he found himself letting out a different answer.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s okay if you don’t. I know that new emotions can be frightening, can be difficult to deal with. But Xiao, I’ll always love you. It doesn’t matter who else I meet or what else happens in my life. I love you the way that a bird loves the sky. You’re a part of my life I could never lose. So even if this isn’t jealousy, even if I’m wrong, I still want to let you know. I love you.”

Xiao sighed, a smile finally gracing his lips, the pain in his chest finally melting away. What did he ever do to deserve such a person as you, he would never know. He wished he could repeat those words back to you word for word, wished that he could explain that his love for you was all encompassing, had seeped through the cracks of his existence and his life. He wished he could form together the words necessary to convey his love for you. Even if it was impossible he still wished it.

So instead he leaned over towards you. Letting out a gentle sigh he brought his lips to yours, reveling in the soft sensation of your mouth against his, reveling in the way you leaned against him, bringing you arm up to his neck, letting out a soft breath of contentment as the two of you disconnected.

You didn’t ask him anything else, and for the rest of the evening you two sat on the grass, watching the fireflies dance around you as you leaned against one another.

Perhaps Xiao didn’t yet understand the extent to which he loved you, the emotions that had now risen up, given life by the love you’d poured into the adeptus. Perhaps he didn’t understand this yet, but he knew that all would be well. For with you all that irritation seemed so far away, as if it belonged to a Xiao of yesterday. Because here and now you two were together, breathing in the same mutual contentment, the same mutual trust, the same mutual love. And that present was more important than any jealousy could be.

 Zhongli

Looking back on the matter Zhongli admitted that maybe pretending the problem didn’t exist was probably not the best solution.

It was only that you two had seemed so oddly content in talking, so, compatible, that Zhongli couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discontent, a tension that spread through his jaw and down to his stomach. He didn’t quite understand the nature of the emotion that now spread over him, but he did understand that it was connected to the bond that was now forming between you and the vendor in front of you.

“Dearest one.” He spoke softly, walking over to where you now stood.

“Oh, Zhongli!” Your face lit up as usual, and the ex-archon felt a piece of him uncoil. At least some things seemed to be unchanging, just as wonderful today as they had been the day before.

“I’ve been looking for you. I know you spoke of wanting to learn more about the nature of Cor Lapis, and the tea shop has been offering a new brew. Perhaps we could share a drink?”

“Oh that sounds lovely!” Turning around towards the vendor you smiled gently. “I’m sorry, I’ll have to try that lovely soup you were speaking of some other time.”

“Not at all!” The vendor’s smile was good natured, and Zhongli didn’t understand why he nevertheless felt a twinge of uncertainty. “I look forward to it. I hope you two have a nice day, and we’ll talk about it more later.”

Though the stall receded into the distance as the two of you turned the corner, Zhongli couldn’t help but let the moment run through his mind once more, finding it as sore to think about as a bruise might be to the touch.

“That vendor? Oh they’re new on the scene.” You smiled, taking a sip of tea.

The tea house was as calming as ever, the noises of the outside a distant song, and the hushed whispers inside adding to the intimate atmosphere. Zhongli normally loved to sit here, drinking cup after cup of tea, watching as the people came and went about their business, immersed in a small fragment of Liyue life. Now, however, he found he couldn’t stop thinking about the vendor. If he closed his eyes he could still remember their face, and the way yours was lit up while they were talking to you.

“Their name is Eli.” You continued on, oblivious to the way Zhongli’s hand tightened around his teacup. “They said that they set up shop maybe… two weeks ago? It hasn’t been a very long time, and they’re still struggling a bit. I hope that they’ll be able to get their business off the ground, who knew that street food was such a cutthroat world.”

“The city of Liyue is full of people who might make their way in the world, doing whatever they can. Perhaps it is unsurprising that competition is second nature to Liyue’s citizens.” Zhongli replied, hoping his tone wasn’t too curt. If it was you didn’t seem to mind, nodding softly in agreement.

“Speaking of Liyue and stories, perhaps you would like to tell me the story you were going to tell? I very much doubt that Cor Lapis is the blood of Morax.”

“How humans love to spin their stories.” Zhongli chuckled.

But even as he began to speak of jewels and pressure and the minerals that lay deep beneath the earth a bit of him was still preoccupied by the vendor’s easy words and your smiling face.

The next time he ran into you with the vendor the pit in his stomach had only gotten heavier. Standing a little ways away he let the conversation between the two of you flow in and out his ear, frown slipping deeper the more he heard.

“I cannot believe that your stall nearly caught fire on your first day! How unlucky.”

“Even worse that I didn’t know who to try and tell about it. If I had known you were part of the Guild then I would’ve asked you.”

“Well next time there are troubles you can just send a message to the Adventurer’s Guild. We can’t have our citizens being injured on our watch.”

“You sound like true heroes. I wish I could do the sorts of things you did. Your commissions sound fascinating! I would love to see how you go about your day some time.”

“Really it’s nothing, most days it’s quite boring really, just like any other job. Still, it’s nice to know that people have an interest in what we do.”

“Oh certainly! I find what you do very interest– ”

“My dearest one!” Zhongli called out, unable to continue listening to the conversation, feeling somewhat guilty and certainly upset. You turned slightly, smile brightening as you saw your partner.

“Zhongli! So sorry that I didn’t meet you outside your office, I must’ve lost track of the time. Eli here was telling me all about their first days at work.”

“I’m sorry that I got out late. I hope that you did not have to wait awhile.”

“Oh not at all Zhongli, like I said I’ve just been standing here. You don’t need to feel bad at all!”

“I’m glad. Perhaps now we can go?”

Zhongli attempted to smile, but it felt a lot more like a grimace. You stared at him, face the picture of confusion. Taking a step forward you glanced one more time at Eli, shrugging apologetically. Before any more words could be passed between the two of you Zhongli grabbed onto your hand. Walking quite quickly he didn’t let go until the two of you were at your apartment and he could finally breathe again.

“Zhongli, what’s the matter with you?” You asked, closing the apartment door behind you. Walking back towards Zhongli, who stood there silently, you let your hands rest lightly on his shoulders. “You can tell me you know, I can tell you’re unhappy.”

“I have a confession.” Zhongli started, feeling somehow compelled to reveal his thoughts, as if keeping them locked away would only be dangerous.

“Yes?”

“I, I did not like the way that the vendor spoke to you.”

“Eli? But they were perfectly nice.”

“I do not mean that they were rude. They were perfectly cordial. I mean, when the two of you were speaking, I, I felt uncomfortable. It was as if there was a barrier between us in that moment. I, I did not like it.”

“Oh Zhongli.” You breathed out, an indulgent smile on your face.

Reaching up you planted fleeting kisses on the archon’s face, peppering his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, touch featherlight. It was a familiar gesture, one of comfort, one used in darker nights, when shadows dotted the periphery of Zhongli’s vision.

“Zhongli, I assume you know what jealousy is?”

“I know the term and what it means. I admit I am not personally familiar with the concept.”

“Well I am, so let me tell you. What you experienced, that was jealousy, plain and simple. I know it’s very uncomfortable. Jealousy can be such a messy feeling, it sticks everywhere. But it’s also normal. So you don’t need to worry. I promise that nothing will happen, and I promise that these feelings would go away. I also promise that I love you very much, so even if you feel these emotions, you don’t have to worry.”

“How could I ever worry about you?” Zhongli murmured, wrapping his arms around you, basking in your proximity.

The apology only came in the evening, after words and kisses and love had hung long enough in the air to dull the feelings that Zhongli had been carrying around. Now he lay there next to you, chin resting gently on your head, suddenly realizing that he’d most likely acted quite rudely.

“I’m sorry I ignored Eli.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand.” You murmured. “Though I’m not actually sure what got you riled up about them.”

“You are also a bit oblivious dearest one,” Zhongli let out a soft laugh, “it seems they were quite taken with you.”

“Were they?” You asked, tone betraying your surprise. You paused for a moment, as if trying to replay your interactions. “I never noticed. To be honest, I don’t think I could ever notice, not when I have you.”

“Thank you.” Zhongli whispered, oddly overcome by the confession.

As he lay awake, carding gentle fingers through your hair and listening to the even breaths of your sleeping form he pondered just how lucky he was. Precious gems might come from pressure and earth and chance. But you were more precious than all of them. And he’d never forget that.

[nevereverlandboys]

Different Pulses 

Pairing: Felix x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: After Pan gets defeated, Y/N and Felix live together in Storybrooke with the "heroes". They both don't get along and seem to avoid each other, until the "heroes" need to leave them alone to save Henry from another threat. Will Y/N get along with the cold, distant boy?

Part: (1/?)

@madd-devil

This story is heavily inspired by "When it's cold" by:

@the-original-weirdo-83

@peter-pan-on-neverland

Y/N's eyes wandered through the small room, from the small bed to the huge window, stopping at the small drawer underneath it, before finally stepping further in. The walls were dyed light blue and besides a big clock and a flat screen they were empty. There was nothing unusual with this room, nothing really striking and yet it still felt a little strange. She walked forwards and ripped the dark curtains away, opening the window to welcome the golden sunlight into the room, warming her skin. The air smelled different and even the birds chirped in another tune. It seemed as if this world was quieter than the other, less dangerous and more welcoming. For a moment Y/N was soaked into the moment and drifted off into her thoughts, as suddenly some cursing in the next room ripped the girl out of her thoughts. With an annoyed snarl, she rolled her eyes and let herself drop onto the small bed, trying to ignore the sounds that probably came from the grumpy former second in command. After all, he still did not like being taken from Neverland, as he found himself with Y/N in a new home in Storybrooke. He still did not fit in and fought with everything he had to integrate. The second in command was stubborn and feisty, hot-tempered and constantly in a bad mood. Felix had barely granted Y/N a smile since they came off the Island and after he was brought into Mary Margaret's and David Charmings flat, everything went worse. The lost boy usually locked himself up inside his room, stayed there until after dinner to grab himself the leftovers, before vanishing back behind the wooden door. He never seemed to understand the technology around him, not even trying to understand it, but getting angry instead if it did not work out like he had imagined it to.  Y/N on the other hand, found herself in a healthy relationship with her hosts real quick. They took it as their own responsibility to take both of them in, after Pan was defeated. Felix, because he was the most stubborn boy that would never find his peace in an orphanage and Y/N, because she was the only girl next to Wendy that lived with the lost boys. After all this time on the island, she found herself being close to Henry as well. The small, young boy was like a little brother to her, making the girl laugh and joining her whenever Mary Margaret would allow them to go out. She was a careful woman and even though she trusted Y/N, there was no reason for her not to be cautious. Also Y/N suspected Mary  not to act like granting the girl a privilege while Felix was still being guarded. 

Another loud yell from behind those walls disturbed the girls' peaceful daydreams once more, so she grabbed the pillow and pressed it over her head to muffle all the sound, trying her best to ignore everything around. It was a day too pretty for this and Y/N only wanted to relax, but not a few minutes of delightful silence later, she heard a knock on the wooden door. Moving her body properly under the sheets, she faced the door and mumbled just loud enough,"Come in."

The door swung open and revealed the former second in command's worried face, his sweaty hair hung down his face and he breathed so loud that the girl could literally feel anger flooding in the room. The atmosphere turned immediately tense and the room seemed to shrink around her with each second passing. Y/N held her breath and raised one eyebrow in confusion, trying her best to hide her insecurities behind a questioning look, as the lanky, blonde boy's eyes pierced her urgently. 

"Where is the little rat?" Felix spoke in a hoarse tone. 

"The ra-" She started confused. "Oh."

Henry.

"He took my cloak." Felix raged. "Where is the bastard, so I can smite him!"

"It's in the laundry." Y/N interrupted him before Felix would even try to hurt Henry and give him the fault for her doings. She found it in the bathroom and washed it along with the other laundry. The girl's voice was almost inaudible, well knowing the boy's temper from all the countless encounters with the other lost boys. Felix's eyes twitched and he gritted his teeth as he slowly came closer, one step after another, to close the distance that kept her away from him, the only distance that gave the girl at least a little bit of comfort. Henry could be glad to have to spend the time with the grumpy lost boy on weekends only. How much she envied him.

"What?" He snarled with his face just a few centimeters away from hers and for a moment her mind went blank, the only impulse she felt was to storm out of the room. As she crashed to the door, Y/N did not even bother to look back and swiftly grabbed her shoes and keys before leaving the apartment.  The door swung shut with a loud crash that echoed through every room as Felix swayed back in his own room, every cell inside him questioning why his heart felt so heavy. Y/N was not even sure if the lanky boy bothered to chase after her and if her actions seemed a little exaggerated, but when Felix built himself up in front of her, the girl's heart sank into the bottom of her body and fear overtook her mind. The former lost boy had been cruel to other boys for less than that.

She did not stay out for long, simply walked around the block to get some fresh air and to get some space from the tall boy. Also, because she knew that Mary would be mad if she was not home when the woman returned. The first week did not start well and Y/N let out a frustrated sight as she thought of the future. Mary and David left her alone with him half of the day, having the boy locked up in his room was not consoling though, the fact alone that he was present was enough to make her feel nervous. When she returned to the apartment, Felix was nowhere in sight, so she quickly snuck back into her room, hoping that he would leave her alone for the rest of the day. On the other hand, she had to make sure that he would not hurt Henry, the poor boy did nothing wrong. For a moment Y/N hesitated until she decided to get Felix's cloak from the washing line on the balcony. Not a surprise that the asshole did not know it was there, when he never left his room. Still, the girl felt a little curious when she thought of what he might do all day by himself- especially with no understanding of technology. Was he not bored? There was no convincing answer that she could think of and Y/N wondered if she would find out as she strutted with the big cloak in her hands towards Felix's room. She  knocked at the door and immediately regretted it after the previous events. Nevertheless she tried to be brave and push her fear aside, telling herself that the former second in command was not threatening at all.

She knocked again when nothing happened and suddenly some angry footsteps stomped into her direction-, firm and loud, before the tall boy ripped the door wide open, revealing his furious face.

"What the fuck do you want?" Felix growled, the veins of his neck throbbing and his hands pressed so tightly into fists that his knuckles turned white. 

"I-...eh." Y/N stammered nervously and tightened her grip onto the cloak. Her eyes widened as she thought, He would not hurt me, would he? "I have your-"

"Keep that!" Felix interrupted her, his words were like poison.

Felix slammed the door shut before  the girl could say another  word, leaving her in the dark hallway with an unsettling feeling inside her guts that something was wrong. But how could she even tell what? Felix never spoke to her that much and it was pretty obvious that he would not do more in the future. All Y/N knew was that the grumpy boy missed the island and that he missed Pan, even though the girl never understood his obedience to the green devil. Peter Pan was manipulative and evil and she was glad he never left Neverland alive. Felix couldn't give her the fault for his loss, she had never helped the heroes and even refused as the only one next to him to say a word. Well, Y/N opened up quicker and befriended the "heroes" after everything they did. It was a saint if she could speak freely about it. The cloak must mean a lot to Felix, or else he would never be this angry, even for a boy who had a tendency to violence-, he never hurt Y/N before. She really hoped he would take it back and overcome his rage. The idea that Felix might only looked for a reason to hate Henry more occured her a few minutes later, but it was an unspoken thought that seemed to be way too assumptious.

"I am sorry about Peter." She moved her forehead onto the wooden door, resting it there for a bit and after a while she watched a single tear drop down onto the ground. Peter was not completely evil, not to Y/N at least and deep inside he was a loss to her as well. There was a short time where Felix seemed to be nice too, back on Neverland just weeks before Peter got defeated. He had shown the girl a flower field and tickled her until some boy's would crossy their way and disturb that lovely moment. It was the first and only time he had ever been close in a comforting way. Since then, Y/N had always hoped to see the boy underneath this rusty shell, but it was all gone since the second he stepped off the boat.

The door stayed closed and she stared at Felix's cloak, wondering what to do with it. When Y/N returned to her own room and snuck underneath the covers, the cloak was still under her arm. It did not smell like Felix anymore. The ticking of the clock was the only sound filling the room, capturing the girl's eyes to check the time- six pm. It was late, almost time for Mary Margaret to come back from work and cook some dinner, and when it was time for Y/N to sleep, David would come home too and Emma would come tomorrow, to bring Henry over for the weekend. Y/N barely saw David. He was always busy with his work in the police station and would get home late in the night. He left Felix and her up to Mary and Emma, which was definitely a hard task thinking of the rebellious boy next to Y/N's room. The man could not stand the former lost boy, the girl had seen it in his eyes when Emma brought her onto the ship, back then,  from escaping Neverland. Felix's emotions seemed mutual and everyone around could sense it. That both of them were separated most of the time, was not so bad after all. Mary Margarett even tried to take it as an opportunity to get to know more about the former lost boy, but all her attempts failed. The boy kept shut, would not reveal his past and barely replied to any of the woman’s actions. It was tiring to watch, quite a show though. It seemed like a boring game of charade, in which Mary kept asking him countless questions and then tried to interpret his annoyed growls as he ate some cereal. Breakfast was a strict rule for him to join and dinner to avoid. 

Y/N rolled over and grabbed her phone, turning some music on to change her thoughts and kill the silence. Even though it was so early, she felt how her eyelids were getting heavy, how she slowly drifted off into sleep, using the cloak as a pillow. Throwing it away was not an option for her, there could always come a time where the former lost boy would demand it back. 

It felt like a whole night when the girl woke up from a strange feeling of someone pulling on something underneath her. Out of reflex, she tightened the grip on the cloak in her arms. The pulling got stronger and when she realised that this was not a dream, she slowly opened her tired eyes.

"I changed my mind." Felix scoffed. "I want it back."

With a mind still dizzy and drunk from sleep, Y/N's sight was still so blurry, that it was hard to catch up and she needed a moment to follow the lost boy's words. He obviously meant the cloak, but why did he make such a fuss about it when he did not want it in the first place? 

"Y/N?" He pronounced her name so carefully when he realised her eyes were closing again. She did not respond. 

The sound of Felix's knees hitting the floor startled the girl out of sleep, finding herself sitting bolt upright in bed, pressing the cloak with widened eyes tightly against her chest. He let out an amused chuckle, grinning from ear to ear. Being fully awake now, Y/N realised why the tall boy was here and she slowly reached her hand forward, handing the boy his cloak over. What the hell did he do in the middle of the night inside her room? Why could this not wait? Her eyes wandered to her phone on the small nightstand-, it was eight pm and winter. It caused the girl to genuinely laugh to herself.

"Sorry for washing it." She whispered meek, avoiding Felix's gaze and dropped her head back onto the pillow before turning  away from him to close her eyes. 

"It's all right." With that Felix quickly made his way back to his own room, the door closing so quick as if he had run.

The next day he kept quiet, did not say a word at breakfast, not even a snarky comment towards Henry who was constantly talking about one of his favourite movies and its heroes. The word 'hero' usually was enough to make the former lost boy explode. Not this time. His steel like eyes were glued onto his bowl as he ate in silence. Later he would sit in the living room, watching some TV that Henry forgot to turn off and would not even complain when Y/N joined and switched the channel. For a moment she felt his eyes burning on her skin. When she met his gaze, the former lost boy rose to his feet and walked away, slamming his door to confirm he was in his room now. Felix was strange and not the friendliest boy for sure. Still, Y/N had the feeling that there was more behind his behaviour that he would let her on and that he exaggerated an act. Mary would give her some tasks over the time like getting the groceries, which she would really appreciate doing, since it was a great way to get out. Y/N and Felix were no prisoners of course and the cold of the thick snow creeping in from the outside would keep her under her covers anyway. There never has been snow on Neverland. It was entirely strange and yet so familiar, waking a nostalgic feeling inside the girl. When Y/N found her way to the grocery store, there was no one to harm her and she had all the time she needed to wander through the different Isles and shove anything she liked into the shopping cart. There were no lost boys with spears and torches, that would hunt the girl down until her feet would bleed. No Pan that played his dangerous, manipulative games, that only entertained him in a twisted, sadistic way,  satisfying him, that it could already be a kink. 

It was freedom. 

The good snacks from the store disappeared immediately inside the drawer, keeping it safe from Henry or Felix. Both had the tendency to steal Y/N's food. She would often cook for herself, learning new skills since there was nothing else to do anyways. As soon as Mary returned, the girl hoped she would bring some more groceries, but she got disappointed. The snow held her off too long, the mood to go into the supermarket was simply gone and Y/N could understand that.

"You can go with Henry." She smiled and grabbed herself something to drink from the fridge. 

"When will he be here?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow as she waited for an answer. The short haired woman slowly turned around, her face seemed to be frozen in an unbelieving, perplexed and slightly fearing frown.

"Isn't he here alr-" She stopped and both of their heads shot into the same direction when a key was put inside the front lock, turning and unlocking the door. The girl expected the young boy to get home, instead, Emma stormed into the apartment, shortly followed by David and the girl already saw on their faces that something was wrong. Mary let go of what she was doing and closed the distance between them with quite some concern on her face.

"They took Henry!" Emma bursted out, her eyes searching the room as if her son could just hide somewhere and would just magically appear any moment. She looked full of hope. David gently rubbed her back and told Mary to get her things. They always seemed to find trouble and now Y/N finally understood what Felix meant, when he once claimed that their hero being was only a facade and they were the true danger. Were they? Henry was gone and that was because he was so important to these women.

"Who took him?" Y/N asked worriedly.

"Stay out of this, you are not a part of this." Emma ignored the question and  gently shoved the former lost girl out of her way to get her keys. She ripped the door wide open and jumped down the hallway without bothering to close it, expecting the others to follow quickly. 

"We will get Henry back." Mary turned to Y/N, trying to comfort her by holding her hands. "You don't have to worry."

It was not the young boy she worried about and the short haired woman knew that. With a quick glance back to Felix's closed door, Y/N gulped and immediately shook her head.

"I can come with you!" She protested at the thought of being all alone with the former second in command.

"No," Mary said and sighted. "I need you here."

Her gaze wandered off to Felix's door again and her look grew frustrated. Y/N followed with her eyes and nodded before facing the short haired woman again. She turned to the counter and grabbed her purse to pull out her wallet.  Then she collected all the money she had and put it in a sugar box inside the shelf. 

"I trust you enough." Her words meant a lot. "Besides, once in a while Regina will check up on you two."

With that, Mary Margaret turned around and gave David a final nod, before both of them left the apartment to join their daughter in the car. As soon as Y/N closed the door behind them, everything went into an uncomfortable silence. There was no single sound instead of the unbearable striking of the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. 

"Great." Y/N moaned quietly. At least they could have told her who took Henry and for what possible reason. The adults would always seem to know better and in this case they decided it would be better to keep Felix and her out of this. Did they really want to leave her out of it, or was Y/N just not to be trusted? Felix would easily try to convince her about that. The former lost boy probably would not  care  at all. It was smart of Mary Margaret to hide some money for Y/N. The fridge was almost empty and she wondered how long they would be away and when she would need food. There was nothing good inside it, nothing appealing, so  Y/N closed the door and strutted back to her room. Dropping into the sheets, she grabbed the remote next to her pillow and turned on the TV. Henry had shown her how to use it real quick as he often joined the girl to play video games. All those years living here and using all these things caused him to always be smarter and it was the first thing Y/N noticed that Felix disliked about him. At the end, there were countless things the scarred up boy hated, but Henry was always the center of his anger. 

With the time passing by, the rumbling in the girl's stomach got louder until her tummy literally screamed for something to eat. Back in the kitchen, there was still nothing  appealing and with a quick glance to Felix's wooden door, she wondered if the former lost boy would like to eat something too. Each step further towards his room felt more heavy and Y/N's stomach turned inside out. The moment her knuckles knocked against the cool wood, she questioned why she even tried to be nice and get along with him. The floor was cold, maybe she should have put on some socks or turned on the heater. There was no sound on the other side of the wood and Y/N started to wonder if Felix was even home, when suddenly some heavy footsteps slowly strutted closer. Felix swayed the door wide open and rubbed his tired eyes, then rested his heavy head on the doorframe. He only wore some grey sweatpants, revealing his scars on his pale chest. The air around the girl thickened and her body heated up at the sight of his messy, sweaty morning hair. 

"Sorry." She mumbled and avoided looking at him. His presence alone caused shivers to run down her spine. "Did I wake you?"

"M-hm." Felix grumbled tiredly, fighting to keep his eyes open. Y/N's eyes wandered back to the open kitchen and its clock. It was four o'clock.

"Are you hungry?"

The tall boy remained silent for a moment, his dull eyes staring at the girl as if he did not understand the question, turned to look at his bed, then slightly nodded with his head as if it was the hardest thing to do.

"I could eat." He spoke with a deep, raspy voice, laying his focus back onto Y/N. Fuck, he sounded so hot, it caught her off guard and left her unable to speak for a glimpse moment. 

"I am ordering food." She said after a small moment. "What would you like?"

Felix pressed his brows together, then lifted one in confusion. "How does that work?" He asked and Y/N chuckled in amusement, feeling how her stiffened limbs relaxed. 

"You choose a restaurant and then decide what you want to eat." She explained and showed the blonde boy her phone. "They deliver it and you pay."' 

"Ah."

Y/N were not sure if Felix was not understanding it, or simply did not like it. He brought his hands up to his arms and rubbed the scarred skin, feeling how cold it was and finally bothered to put on a T-shirt. If Y/N were honest with herself, she liked Felix's exposed back. Muscles danced under tender flesh, as arms stretched upon the ceiling, forward and crooked together, pulling the cotton over his chest. Back on Neverland, Felix always seemed to be violent and rough, harsh to others and never in a good mood. There has not changed much, yet the dangerous, threatening touch was missing since he came to Storybrooke with Y/N. He was bent to new rules now. 

"Pizza." Felix said and stepped closer, closing the distance and bent down to take a glimpse of the menu. "Do they have some?"

Y/N's skin started to prickle when she felt his breath against her cheek and immediately froze in place. Why was he so close? 

"You know Pizza?" She asked unsure, still a little curious. Felix smirked and let out a husky chuckle. "Sure I do."

He walked past her into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, gulped it down, filled another one, gulped it down, but when he repeated that for a third time, the second in command could not finish it and disposed of the remains in the sink.  He turned around to check the time and widened his eyes as he realised how late it already was.

"The days are dark during winter." The boy mentioned with a side-along gaze, as if he knew that she might have criticised him for sleeping that long. Y/N did not know how to respond, but was confident enough to join the tall boy in the kitchen, pulling the chair back and taking a seat at the table. Both of them did not say a word and with each second passing in silence, she regretted sitting there with him even more. 

"Why did you run from me earlier?" The question caught her off guard, she needed a moment to think for the right answer. The girl tilted her head in Felix's direction, his eyebrows were lifted up in a questioning look and he leaned at the counter, waiting for the girl to open her mouth and speak.  He was just curious, not too gruff nor angry. 

"You scare me sometimes." Y/N admitted. "It's like being back in Neverland."

The former lost boy nodded disappointed and shifted his gaze out of the window to hide half of his features as if she would ever be able to read them.

"You really did not like the Island." The boy stated, receiving a light nod as an answer. "Was it so bad?"

"There were no toilets."

Felix could not help but chuckle, a warm genuine smile spread over his face and he nodded his head in agreement when he faced her again. 

"Toilets sure are great." He laughed. "Or warm running water."

Felix pushed himself away from the counter and slendered over to the girl, taking a seat on the chair in front of her. "It took me three days to find out how that works, by the way." He added after a small pause. Y/N could only shake her head in response and give him a brief smile. "Must have been cold."

The tall boy agreed in silence and crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting for the food to arrive. He would disappear for a while to go to the bathroom, giving her some space to clear her mind. All she could think about was how beautiful the former second in command looked when he smiled, making her nervous the longer he stayed with her. For a moment, it seemed like he was another person when she was all alone with him. 

"Where are the others?" Felix asked when he returned from the bathroom, pulling the chair around to straddle it. 

"Someone took Henry." Y/N admitted low, not even wanting him to know that, well aware that he would only mock this situation, probably having expected such a thing sooner or later. 

"Hm.’' Felix let out an amused chuckle and gave her a winning smirk, one that said,"Told you so!"

"We're on our own for a while." The girl said, checking her phone for a message from the delivery guy. Not long. Almost here. How the time had passed by.

"I am  fucking happy they are gone." Felix snorted and rolled his eyes."They were such a pain in the ass."

At least they gave him a home and clothes, food and no worries about his current life. That was something and even though Y/N knew how beautiful the Island could be, the former lost boy had not been safe there. None of them were. How could he still be so blinded after all? Y/N wanted to respond but decided to keep her mouth shut. Right at that moment the doorbell rang. Shifting from her seat, Y/N strutted over to the door and opened it, waiting a few moments for the delivery guy to get up the stairs and hand her the Pizza. She pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it over to the man before closing the door. The boxes felt hot on her cool hands and the smell of fat, cheese and pepperoni filled the room, making the girl realise how hungry she actually was. Felix's stomach started to rumble when she started to cut her Pizza, so she assumed he did not have any breakfast either. For a moment the girl really enjoyed the boy's company and hoped he would stay longer, but she was also sure that he would take his food and vanish as quickly as he used to do. Yet, Felix never ceased to amaze her. He waited in silence until she was done cutting, then he took the knife and in that moment her fingers touched his, she felt  a quick, electric sensation followed by butterflies rumbling in her stomach. Taking the Pizza, she quickly strutted into the direction of your room to hide her sudden joy, just to be stopped by Felix calling her name.

"Where are you going?"

"Into my room?" Y/N gave confused back ,wondering why he would want her to accompany him all of the sudden.

"Oh- I thought…" Felix sounded disappointed.

"Oh…" Her eyes widened and maybe she sounded a bit too harsh. "I thought you wouldn't want-"

"Nevermind." Felix barked harshly and swiftly vanished behind his own door, not even giving the girl a chance to say another word. Damn, this boy was so sensitive, his mood was constantly switching and Y/N wished to find out why he was always  so pessimistic about everything. Not now, she thought, not now. First she would eat, then she would take care of that matter. 

The boy let out an annoyed sight when he opened his door after Y/N knocked not long after she finished eating. Felix was eating the last slice of his pizza and held the empty box in his other hand.

"Why are you always coming to me?" He snarled.

"I just care about you! For god’s sake! You act so fucking mean since we came here and I wonder why." She raised her voice and knitted her eyebrows together in a serious manner

"Please don't do this." Felix moaned theoretically. "Please don't act as if you cared!"

Felix swiftly turned around and threw the empty box of Pizza aside. His fast movements caused her to flinch a little, but still she managed to remain calm.

"You don't care!" He snarled. "Nobody cares. Just leave me alone."

The tall boy did not need to turn around and give her a final glare, he made it clear that she was not wanted and no matter how much he needed her help, she respected his wishes. Y/N had really no thought to waste about him when she went straight into the bathroom to take a bath that might cool her nerves. That fucking audacity and this childish behaviour, as if Felix really meant what he was saying. They both knew he was not serious and that he was simply lying to himself about his emotions. There was no place for love in his heart after being manipulated by Pan for so long, nor  for friendship. Y/N did not care what the former second in command told himself about their friendship, it all has been a lie and a game for Pan, something to entertain him. It was worthless. His loss meant nothing, still Y/N cared how Felix felt about the betrayal of every former boy.

While she stripped off her clothes, the girl waited for the bathtub to be filled with hot water and bubbles, a metaphorical way to clean her thoughts when diving in. She should rather think about helping someone out and earn some money, so she could afford buying her own things. She splashed the water with her fingers and slowly sank deeper into the bathtub to enjoy the silence. The hot steam filled the room and when her thoughts drove off to something pleasantly, she almost forgot the time. Back in Neverland there was nothing to worry about time, the days were almost all the same and no one was there to rush someone. Things have barely changed in Storybrooke, since there was nothing to do for Y/N and the lanky lost boy, so they needed to find something to kill the time. 

It had been an eternity since the girl had taken a proper bath and maybe it was time to get out, but the hot water remained too tempting for her to step out. With a deep breath she closed her eyes and leaned back, as suddenly a door slammed shut, immediately telling her that Felix was leaving his room again. His slow footsteps definitely made their way towards the bathroom and Y/N realised that she did not lock the door. She did not really forget to lock the door, right? The girl could not recall it and to get out of the water, to check was too late, as she watched agonised how the door handle went down and the door swung wide open, causing her heart to skip a beat. The tall lost boy did not seem to notice her at first, but as soon as he entered the steamy room, Felix froze in place. His eyes widened and his face turned blank. For a long moment, they both stared at each other and Y/N felt relieved that she was at least covered by a thick foam of bubbles. 

"Fuck, sorry...I-" Felix stuttered through half open lips, as if the little sight of a girl's skin was enough to steal his voice. It gave Y/N her confidence back.

"I didn't mean to-" the boy still couldn't open his mouth while his gaze burned holes through her. It took him a moment, but suddenly Felix shook his head to ban whatever he was thinking about and shifted his eyes away, then turned on his heels to swiftly leave the bathroom. 

At least he could have closed the door, Y/N thought as she sunk deeper into the water in embarrassment. Fuck, how in the hell could she forget to close the door? At least he did not see anything, or did he? The whole situation left her frozen in place, unable to think clearly. Y/N did not even dare to step out of the water to close the door, so she just sat there, trying her best to calm down. After a while, the skin of her fingertips were already wrinkled up, leaving a rough touch on her softened skin and she finally thought about getting out of the bathtub. A long time  had passed, since Felix stepped into the bath and now the water was starting to get cold. The girl's eyes searched the room for a towel until she realised that she had washed them and now they hung in the living room. Fuck this shit.

"Felix!" She called him as loud as she could, but there was no answer. The boy did not respond until she called him again.

"What do you want?" His voice echoed through the hallway. She sounded unsure and intrigued. 

"I have a problem."

"Well now you have two." Felix yelled back.

Y/N frowned in confusion and lifted her head.

"How's that?"

"I ain't interested in your first problem."

She let out an annoyed sight and rolled with her eyes and brought her fingers to her forehead, running over her skin in a steady, relaxing movement. Why was he like that? Was it really necessary to always find a way for drama? 

"I don’t have a towel." She whined, hoping for him to bring her one. The grumpy boy did not respond again, an unbearable silence filling the apartment. Felix was there, the girl knew that he was. He had not shut his door yet, so he must be in the living room or kitchen where he would perfectly understand you.

"Felix…" She called him, already giving up that he would come and breaking her mind by finding a way to get past him. "Please."

A few seconds later she heard his footsteps come back again, the wood creaking under his weight and announcing the boy’s arrival. He did not even enter the room, instead Felix threw the towel through the open crack.

"I need to take a piss, so please hurry up!" He said rather cowardly before the footsteps led him away, then shutting the door shut. Y/N did not hesitate and got out of the water as quickly as she could, barely drying her skin before she sprinted into her own room before the former lost boy would cross her way again. 

Why did such things always happen to her? Could it not have been someone else to walk in like Emma or Mary? Of course not, destiny always found a way to punish the girl,- first Pan, now Felix. Nevertheless, the cold boy stayed inside her mind all the time. She dressed herself and got ready to snuck under the blankets. For a while she allowed herself to dream of him cuddling against her back, how his big body would feel like pressed against hers, or maybe even… on top  of her?

NO.

Fuck no, she was not having dirty daydreams of mister cold facade. There was nothing special about Felix, right? Eventually that long scar that ran over his jagged jawline and those blue, stabbing eyes fascinated her. Those  piercing eyes, that were sharp as daggers and intimidating as the gaze of a shark. There was definitely something mysterious about the former second in command, still, Y/N had told herself that she was done with adventures and risky decisions- Felix was definitely one of those,- that she could tell. He was hot, but also the biggest asshole she ever met. The former lost boy kept wandering through the apartment and distracting the girl's dreaming thoughts with each passing second. He would not leave her mind until she fell asleep.

(Next Chapter ->)

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Mysterious Girl (Part 10)

Summary: A mysterious figure saves your life...twice, and becomes an integral part of it.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

A/N: It’s the final chapter (to the tune of the final countdown). Anyway, it’s made me so happy seeing people interact with this story so, hope you enjoyed reading it too :) Also I just said it’s the final chapter but there is a bonus chapter I’ll release, i’s kinda angsty (not between Reader and Nat don’t worry) but yeah, if you don’t want the angst you can just end it here.

Warnings: There’s a fair bit of swearing in this one, mentions of a massacre

Word Count: 1165

Series Masterlist

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Apparently the village was still remote enough that nobody recognised the world saving team when you entered the establishment, only hearing the slight mutter of��“Иностранцев” (foreigners) from the bar staff. Natasha smirked, indicating for the rest of you to sit at a table while she went up and spoke to them. Ordering your meals in perfect Russian.

“That’s my fiancée” you beamed, staring dreamily at her. You were still truly in a haze that she’d said yes.

“Are you here for the hauntings?”. The Russian accent snapped you out of your thoughts, and the team all turned to face the waitress bringing drinks.

“We just turned up in the area” Steve explained slowly, “what are the hauntings?”

“A lot of supernatural hunters come to out town” the waitress clarified, lowering her voice to no more than a whisper, “just over 200 years ago, the woods were home to a gruesome massacre”. You raised an eyebrow and Nat slid in next to you. “People think the town had been haunted ever since”

“What happened?” Sam enquired honestly, not noticing you and Natasha.

The waitress leant down further, eyeing the almost empty surroundings. Whether it was to set the tone or because she wasn’t meant to be chatting on shift, you weren’t sure. “There’s more in the museum down the road, but it’s a legend around here. Some brave soldiers were escorting a young girl home through the woods last night. They were attacked, and only the girl survived, armed with a shotgun she shot the creature and ran. But the bodies were found the next morning in a pool of blood, their necks snapped and throats ripped open.”

You tried to control your tone before replying, “oh that’s awful”

“Right? that’s not even the end. But that’s what draws the most people to the town, the case was never solved.”

“There’s more?” Tony asked, and she nodded, 

“I have to serve another table first but I can tell you more later”

As soon as she left you let out a sigh, “I think we need to see this museum tomorrow”,

“Oh yeah?” Natasha questioned, fingers playing with your hair.

“Yeah, I want to find out what this creature looks like. I bet it’s hot”

“What are you? A monster fucker?” she smirked, and you heard sighs from some of the others at the table. “I bet the girl is the hot one though”

“That’s paedophilia Tsarevna, that’s far worse than monster fucking”

“When she’s a lot older!” she corrected quickly

“Get a room guys, your whole team is Right. Here.” Rhodey sighed, and you gave him an apologetic smile until he returned to his conversation with Tony and Sam.

“So that really happened?” Wanda asked, “with the soldiers and everything?”

“Well they weren’t protecting me that’s for sure” you grumbled, “Natasha was. But then I shot her.”

“I was a lot more violent back then” Natasha added and you nodded,

“it was quite gruesome babe. I’m pretty sure I threw up when I got home.”

“I know” she sighed, fingers tracing shapes on your palm, “that’s what the basement was locked for, so you wouldn’t see me feeding again” It was a lightbulb moment for you, the whole story clicking as to why she was so private about her feeding. And it only made you love her more, so you told her.

Eventually the waitress came back with your food, and Sam prompted the rest of the story out of her.

“Oh yes” she beamed, “well some people think the girl murdered those men, but no-one knows, because she was taken too. The creature ambushed her and some friends, shooting her in revenge, then taking her away to kill her slowly.”

You hid your face in the crook of Natasha’s neck, hiding the fact that you were holding back laughter, but Nat knew.

“Supposedly the creature looked like a woman, but with the face of a demon. Red eyes, wrinkles, fangs, horns. And it had strength and speed far beyond any human capabilities.”

“Sounds scary” Natasha interrupted, holding your head still when you started trembling with silent laughter.

“Parents warn their children of the creature. That if they go out at night it will come for them, and they will be found as a dry husk in the morning.”

“That’s the stuff of nightmares” Clint panicked, “now I barely want to go outside”

“We’ll protect you Clint” Natasha guaranteed, while the waitress took the opportunity to offer more drinks to stay through the night. It was a good strategy, and Tony even had to commend her for it before she went back to the bar.

“I can’t believe you shot me Nat, so rude” you said with a fake pout,

“And ambushed you, I can’t be letting my witness walk free can I?”

“I’m guessing... that one, did not happen?” Wanda theorised, eyes narrowing at the two of you.

“Some thief shot me, that’s when Nat took me in so I wouldn’t bleed to death”

“And so began the love story”. Natasha held up a hand shaped like half a heart, and you completed it with your hand, grinning cheesily the whole time.

“Awww” “You guys are sappy idiots” A retch. “Better than whatever monster fucking shit they were talking about earlier”

—————————————————

It was another year before you and Natasha got married, and the Avengers group only grew in that time. Thor was given the date, and made sure he was back from Asgard on time. Tony’s intern, Peter, and T’Challa, the king of Wakanda, had joined during the minor Accords scrap which, thankfully, was quickly resolved. Regardless, they’d become friends during the time, and some of the few who were invited to the event.

You held the wedding in the castle grounds, it seemed the only place that made sense. The area was lit with fairy lights, since the actual ceremony was taking place at night... for obvious reasons.

Clint was, of course, the best man, while Steve walked Natasha up the aisle towards you. Wanda took a dual role of flower girl and bridesmaid, walking in ahead of Maria and Pepper. And Tony was officiating because he had, on a drunken night out, received a license, and so volunteered for the role.

You had to force your mouth shut at the sight of Natasha, blinking tears out of your eyes. It was over 200 years in the making and worth every second, but it was finally happening, and you couldn’t be more glad. Plus she looked stunning, her red hair standing out against the white dress.

“Thank you Clint” you muttered again as the two of you watched Natasha approach. He gave you a reassuring nudge.

“Hey” you said softly, stood across from Natasha.

“Hey yourself”

“You look beautiful”

“So do you my love”

“Shh guys, I’m meant to be talking in this bit” Tony interrupted and you laughed, letting him continue the ceremony. 

You were ready to begin eternity with your wife.

Bonus Chapter

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Bad Dreams - Bucky Barnes x Avenger (f)reader

Summary: You and Bucky are adjusting to civilian life after the Blip, some nights he needs you more then he realizes.

Warning: bit o angst, soft Bucky, fluff

Masterlist

It had been a long fucking five years alone, sure you had Nat and Steve around at the Avengers Facility. But no matter how much time you spent with them doing whatever to keep your mind busy, at the end of the day, you were undoubtedly alone. You liked it that way at one point in your complicated life as an Avenger, but after the blip, you absolutely despised it. 

No one had expected what would have happened to be so terrible and tragic, or it to even go the way that it did. You had never even heard of Thanos or what the fuck kind of weirdass monsters could exist from other parts of the galaxy until they showed up knocking. How rude huh.

Life was peaceful before hand, well for the most part; you were an Avenger, someone who was part of the team. A conjurer of flame and ash, a Phoenix held within that was not afraid to use your power, and you used it well.

Then as per usual, shit went down and low and behold you met the one and only James Buchanan Barnes, Steve’s old friend with the metal arm and troubling history. Not to mention a face to die for, or at least one that would cause a bit of a chaotic scuffle between your two friends. They clearly had other priorities apart from yours at the time which was keep Steve out of jail, don’t burn anyone, and refrain from flirting with his 90 something year old friend. You tried your best in most of those areas. Most of them. 

Nonetheless, you fell hard and fast for the blue eyed man, and him the same for you, his feisty little firecracker with a heart as big and bright as a dragons. So when he went to Wakanda to lie low and get some much needed help. You followed.

With a heartfelt goodbye and a lasting kiss, he went under for a couple long weeks until Shuri and her expert team of scientists were able to fix what those bastards at Hydra had done to him.

For a short yet blessedly peaceful amount of time did you and your dark haired lover live safely within the Wakandan borders. In a small and beautiful little village by a lake, a hut all your own to shelter you from the heat and rain that poured hard onto the earth, and most wonderfully of all you had Bucky.

Life was simple for the first time in a long time, you spent the days helping out the locals and teaching the children how to properly swing a stick in defense, you know completely normal leisure activities. Spending the evenings making a big fire to tell stories under and cook the best food in Wakanda.

And the nights? You spent those wrapped up in Bucky’s arm, although most times you would be the big spoon which he loved more then anything in the whole world. Telling you it’s not just because you’re naturally warm, but that he’s been admittedly a bit touch starved from the years alone and lost. And for that you would always hold him closer.

Then that fateful day came crashing into your lives like a waterfall against rock, your friends had shown up claiming some being called Thanos was coming to take a stone out of Vision’s head. Yeah that was a new one.

The battle wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either, you were able to save many lives by scorching the beasts that pursed onward. Letting whips of flame slash hard against the enemy with great skill and force from your bending. Then the world seemed to still, and the wind swayed the trees oddly.

Then HE came, the Titan from another world, he threw down all in his path without an ounce of mercy or remorse. You and Wanda were so close, so damn close to stopping him, but then he threw you back with the whole force of the gauntlet and a moment later Vision was dead.

Your head was bleeding and a fresh scar had marked your jaw in a bloody red slash from the impact. Though your mind didn’t have time to register nor care as Thanos abruptly disappeared into oblivion, leaving a confused Thor in his wake. Much like the rest of the Avengers.

Then to your horror, one by one, your friends began to turn to ash and dust. Gone. You raced for Bucky nearby, praying to who’d ever listen to spare him or you for that matter. You just needed ten more seconds and then you could have held him one last time, touched his precious skin, ran your fingers through his long dark locks.

Looked into his ocean blue eyes, but no, the universe laughed as you gasped in panic, then it snickered as you screamed. Cheering you on as you sobbed in a cyclone of your own fire until the ground was scorched to shriveled dry earth. And no more tears could fall, your throat raw and heart broken in two.

Your world was gone, a memory forever kept locked inside your heart and soul. He was gone, he was your world, Bucky made your life better and you his.

For the coming months you were a mess, an angry and frustrated wreck of a person. Functioning by sheer will power and Natasha to keep you afloat in your new dreary little world of nothingness. You envied Steve for his ability to keep most of his shit together, and where almost enraged by Tony who had everything still intact. Pepper and a child on the way, how cruel the universe appeared.

You would wake up in the middle of the night sweating, your heart racing a mile a minute and usually part of the wall behind you would be burnt and blackened. You never set fire to anything thank god, but fuck, your heart hurt so much.

You wanted to scream most days, but as one year rolled into two and then three, the dull dreary ache in your body subdued to a tiny flicker of sadness. It became almost nonexistent during the day as you went about Avenger business, only to burn hot and angry at night.

You wanted to move on and forget, but you couldn’t, he was too important. They all didn’t deserve to go like that, none of them. And so another year passed, then it was year five since the blip, more months passed on. Until out of nowhere something or perhaps someone miraculous lit the way into a new sense of hope.

Resulting in the return of everyone who had been lost before, including your Bucky. And from that moment after the battle, when at long last you had finally found him, you knew life would never be the same.

——

Rain pours relentlessly from outside your apartment window, a rhythmic pitter patter near your bedside that aids in keeping you asleep and unbothered for the time being. No sooner do you reach the climax of your dream that consists of you being chased by a giant monarch butterfly with no weapon but a sandbox plastic shovel, do you wake. Strange dream.

All your senses flooding back into you as you feel for your lover in the darkness, your eyes still closed as you do so. Your hand slides across the crinkled bedsheets to no avail, the spot next to you is undeniably empty and rather cold.

oh, Bucky.

Cracking one eye open you glance at the alarm clock where it reads 1:10am in big red letters, illuminating the nightstand that it sits on. You take in a deep breath and roll onto your back to stare up at the ceiling, this has become a reoccurring event with Bucky in the following months since his return.

In Wakanda things were different, it was like a nice prolonged vacation away from all your problems and responsibilities of the world. Now, you two have an apartment somewhere in New York City all your own. Bucky goes to therapy and does his best to integrate back into his new role as a civilian while you work as an Avenger part time. The other half used for being a supporting loving girlfriend to Bucky and a hacker on the side for extra cash in the bank.

You get it though, he’s adjusting the best he’s able to manage right now, and even when he swears the nightmares are gone for good. You know him too well to believe that shit, you can see it in his eyes, he may have been a master assassin at one point. Now he’s with a skilled and almost equally as weathered Avenger who’s seen her share of people really going through it.

It’s not like you were doing any better, you’d wake up screaming in the dead of night from another nightmare involving losing Bucky again. That only lasted for a month or so, but still, it sucked and hurt every damn time. So you get it, nightmares can be a bitch.

Blinking the bleariness out of your eyes, you yawn into the darkness and take a moment to listen to the sound of the rain. It’s peaceful and calm, and though you’d like nothing more then to roll over and fall back into the dark comfortable void of sleep. You long to see Bucky again, even if you saw him not even two hours ago.

Pulling the blanket off of your body, you slowly sit up and face the blurry window that overlooks the glowing city, well more so the park close by. Pushing some hair out of your face, you stand and take a brief moment to stretch before letting your right hand emit a beautiful blue flame.

It proptly lights up the dark room into a shadowed yet still visible one, with a lazy proud smile, you move for the opened bedroom door. Your flame lights the way down the hall until you wander past the tiny kitchen and stop in your living room to the sound of heavy breathing coming from the far end.

You give a lopsided smirk to no one in particular as you pad over to the man who’s sweaty and shirtless on the wooden apartment floor in nothing but his boxers and a single blanket that’s not covering much. Well he sure looks like a hot mess, your hot mess that is.

He gives you an apologetic glance before staring tiredly back at the nearby wall. You extinguish your flame and gently nudge his leg with your sock, “How’s the floor?” You ask with a tinge of humor to lighten the mood.

He lets out a breathy laugh before looking back up at you, “Solid.” Quips Bucky in reference to the hard floor and perhaps his take on the makeshift bed, always one for a bit of humor huh.

Chuckling you crouch down to better meet his shadowed gaze, “I guess so,” You mutter with a shrug, “....afraid I might burn you in my sleep?”

Shaking his head, he gifts you the flash of a smile, “No. Not this time Y/N.”

You smile back before sitting down next to him, you look down at his hand before reaching out to take it without any resistance, “I know it’s the nightmares Bucky.” You whisper softly, your eyes sincere and true, “You don’t have to hold it all in okay, I don’t.....I don’t want you to do that.”

Letting out a reluctant sigh, Bucky frowns, “I know Y/N....I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I just love you too much to see you hurting. I’ve missed you for what feels like a hundred goddamn years and I don’t want you to slip away from me..” You add with a sad smile, “Never again.”

Squeezing your hand gently, Bucky nods, “You’re not going to lose me okay. I promise you that much alright. I love you Y/N.” And he means every word.

“That’s good then. Can you at least tell me something to ease your mind from what’s bothering you?” You ask with a hopeful smile, “Please. Remember what the therapist talked about with speaking your thoughts and feelings....it’s like emptying a treasure chest or some shit.”

“Right.” Laughs Bucky, “Can’t say you’re going to find any gold in here.”

“Shut up I don’t care.” You muse with a shrug, “I’m here to listen.”

“As the lady wishes.” Retorts Bucky with a half-assed bow that caused you to break out into a small smile at his cheekiness.

“Wait.” You pause.

“What?”

“Can we sit on the couch for this I wanna lay next to you.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky fakes his annoyance as you patiently await his answer, “Fine.” He confirms, quickly standing up and taking you with him, “But you gotta lay on me I’m kinda cold now.”

Bucky falls onto the large comfortable couch with a dramatic huff as he pulls you onto his shirtless body, “Weren’t you just all sweaty?” You wonder with a raised brow as he quickly wraps his arms around your waist.

“Yep.”

“Gross.”

Bucky chuckles, “Well you’re making me talk about my feelings.”

“That’s because you won’t talk about them with your actual therapist.” You sass back.

“I hate it when you’re right.” Mutters Bucky into your cheek as you snicker at his adorably dramatic self.

“I think your brain short circuited and misplaced the word hate for absolutely love and adore.”

“Maybe.” Adds Bucky as he steals a sweet kiss, “I’m still working through things you know.”

“Okay smartass. Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

His chest rises as he takes a deep heavy sigh, he stares out the nearby window that keeps the rainy city from being bothersome. You can’t completely see his face due to the darkened room, but you’re close enough to see the way his face turns into a frown.

Suddenly you think maybe you shouldn’t have bugged him to speak about his nightmares. Until he purses his lips together and glances those big beautiful blue eyes down at you, the flash of a smile revealing itself in a split second.

To give him a bit more confidence and perhaps to calm his nerves, do you reach a hand up to gently caress his stubbled cheek, “Was it the Starks again?” You whisper softly in question, knowing how much it still haunts him. Among all the others.

Closing his eyes, he leans into your touch, “Not this time.” Mutters Bucky before taking that hand in his as he rests his head against the couches puffy arm. “Someone else.....Someone who got in the way. Wrong place wrong time.”

“oh.” Slips from your mouth quietly, you’re not sure what else to say, but you’re still hoping he’ll speak a little more about it. “Do they have anything to do with your list?”

It’s a shot in the dark, but you’re well aware of Bucky’s goal to make amends with his past and the people tied with it, maybe someone might be linked to it by chance.

Bucky takes another weighted breath, you can just sense how terrible he feels about this person. “Bucky take your time, it’s okay I’m right here.”

Looking for a positive sign you watch as he closes his eyes once again before moving his head a little bit so that it rests against yours, “I know....it’s just, difficult.”

“Always is.”

“Yeah.”

Kissing your forehead, his flesh arm wraps around your waist as he makes himself more comfortable before continuing, “I was in some government building at night.....tasked with eliminating some special high end target. I finished the mission in under a minute, but uh....there was a civilian who saw everything.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.” Mumbles Bucky against your skin as he takes a moment to gather himself, soon he shifts underneath you once more before letting out a soft breath, “I shot him.”

A bang of sadness washes over you in that brief second and then a sparking anger for what Hydra had forced him to do. You keep silent and wait for Bucky to continue on with his story.

“That guy I killed. He um....he uh, he didn’t deserve that....but I had to.” Bucky’s voice is shaky as he puts his words together, “And you know what’s the worst about this?”

“I’d like not to imagine it but I know you should tell me.”

“You remember Yori?”

“Of course, he takes us to that great sushi place sometimes.”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut as he hugs you tighter against his bare chest for some kind of comfort, his voice nothing but a regretful whisper, “I killed his son.”

Your eyes soften as he reveals who this mystery civilian was, “Damn.”

“Out of all the people in this world and I meet the man who’s son I murdered for Hydra.”

“That’s almost a sick joke.”

“I know. God I’m so fucked up.”

“No.” You protest softly while he hides his face in your neck, “I know you’ve heard this a thousand times but that wasn’t you. It wasn’t the real James Buchanan Barnes alright, you didn’t have a choice. Those fuckers took that away from you.”

“I know Y/N, but I still did it.”

“Bucky look at me.” You ask kindly, to your genuine surprise he lifts his head from your neck to look into your determined gaze, “You’re not the only one here who was manipulated and had their freedom taken from them by Hydra. I’ve done terrible things too, but you know what? We were never truly ourselves then, they molded us into their weapons and now.....they can never touch us again. You understand me?”

Tears whell up in Bucky’s shimmering eyes at your truthfully honest words, he had temporarily forgotten that you were once an unwilling participant in Hydra’s mind stone experimentations many years ago.

“I understand....” Mutters Bucky as he swallows hard, “what would I be without you?”

Giving him a small tearful smile, you gently wipe away a stray tear from his cheek, “A little bit more alone I’d say.”

“You’re a hundred times braver then me you know that? I couldn’t image five years without you and these fucking nightmares.” Admits Bucky as he moves to rest his head in the crook of your neck, “I’d go insane.”

Appreciating this close proximity and his heartfelt confession, you smile into the darkness, “I think I did. Thing is about shitty situations like that....life moves on and finds a way. I have you now, I thought I would lose you forever.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me too.”

[angelz-dust]

Bro cowboy!jason with some smut would be beautiful 😭

yeehaw baby - minors avert y'all eyes 🤠

(as i was writing this i realized i was writing a female reader but if you'd like a male or gender neutral reader instead let me know and i'll come with up an whole new scenario!!)

minors/ageless blogs who interact will be blocked - read rules before interacting

what's a sheriff without his hat? (jason todd x female reader)

warnings: nsfw 18+ (no condom, pulling out - wrap it up y'all). angst if you squint.

...

"sheriff!"

you kicked in the doors to the saloon, gathering the attention of some of the patrons nearby. the place smelled of smoke and sweat, which was why you tried your best to avoid the spot altogether. however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so with sheriff todd making it his new hangout spot. the bastard could've picked a place with a bit more circulation as far as you were concerned.

"sheriff!" you yelled again, holding your dress up as your steps increased in speed. you saw the man in his booth with deputy harper and the rest of their little posse. they felt more like thugs to you.

"he's asleep," the woman, artemis, said to you as she opened her bottle of booze on the side of the table, subsequently chipping off some of the wood. you weren't sure if it was due to the poor structural integrity or her strength. probably both.

"i don't give a damn if he's neck deep in his grave," you spat, walking up to him. his seat was leaned back, which mean he was definitely awake. no one could balance their own weight like that and be unconscious. his hat was covering his face, some smoke coming out of the sides. asleep my ass.

you ripped the hat off of his face, bellows of cigarette smoke barreling out. his eyes shot open, the white slightly red from how he was abusing them just now. how he was still breathing, you didn't know. maybe the rumors about him coming back to life and being immortal were true.

"can i help you?" he glared, making an attempt to snatch his hat back from you. you quickly pulled back, making his seat lunge forward and his chest hit the table. you heard the deputy snort at the scene. "as my companion just told you, i'm asleep."

your glared right back at him, holding his hat behind your back. "you promised to keep those hooligans away from my place of business, todd."

"did i?" he asked you, giving you a fake grin. "well, i'm sorry little lady. it musta slipped my mind."

"don't get smart with me!" you snapped at him, the entire saloon getting quiet now. everyone was suddenly very interested in your little spat. "you're supposed to be protecting us and all you do is sit on your ass. i'm surprised you ain't collecting dust already."

"someone should sew that damn mouth of yours shut. maybe then we'd get some peace and quiet around here," he said back, getting a few chuckles from his little fan club. "give me my hat back."

you stared at him as your frustrations bubbled inside of you. that's all he had to say? his lack of concern for your issue just let you know what kind of man you already knew he was. he wanted his hat back? fat chance. you silently grinned at him before turning around and starting to walk out of the saloon. screw him and his stupid hat.

"hey!" he shouted as you continued walking off. you could feel the vibrations of his movement in the floorboards. he was coming after you. "get back here!"

you sped up, running out of the saloon and back towards the bathhouse. maybe if you got him off his sorry ass he'd be more willing to hear you out. that is, if the theft of his precious little hat didn't irritate him too much. if you weren't so preoccupied with outrunning him, you'd love to see the look on his face. you made it up the few step to the front door, where he quickly caught up with you. you pressed your back against it, securing the hat in between.

the sheriff glowered down at you, his hand pressed against the doorframe above you. you stared into each other's eyes, the sounds of your panting breath sinking up with one another. as much as he agitated you to no end, he was a very handsome man. it was the only thing that had kept you from shooting him in that pretty face.

"you've had your fun," he told you with a low tone, holding his other hand out. "now give it back."

you were surprised he hadn't just tossed you around and took it for himself. back when jas- the sheriff... first came to town, he seemed like a respectable man. you didn't cross paths very often, but every encounter with him was pleasant and memorable. he was kind, sometimes even a little flirty with you. he was a little rough around the edges. all those cowboys seemed to share that trait. but it was worse when when he returned after disappearing for a long time. you barely recognized him. it seemed he had been hardened by... whatever it was he experienced while he was gone. you didn't ask, nor did you care. he and his gaggle of dirty thugs had taken control of the town and it's been this way ever since.

"you don't deserve it," you decided to say, relishing in the instant gratification that came from seeing his expression change so quickly. oh, he was angry and you loved it. "you're no sheriff. you're an outlaw. you don't care about anybody but yourself."

you felt the hot air blow out of his nose and you had to fight back the smirk that was playing at your lips. you looked down and saw his hand moving towards your waist. the hell was he trying to do? before you could move or protest, you had fallen backwards into the bathhouse, right onto the freshly cleaned floor. he looked down at you from where he stood with a smile, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. you scrambled away from him, his hat still firmly in your grip. you got yourself off the floor, ready for whatever he was going to try.

instead of making his way towards you like you assumed he would, he looked around the place, taking in his surroundings. he eventually started walking in your direction. it was menacing watching him slowly approach you with an expressionless face. he stopped at the counter, looking down at the little bell. pressing his finger on it, it rung. he waited a few seconds before ringing it a few more times, looking over at you expectantly. your gaze narrowed as you made your way behind the counter.

"yes?" you asked with gritted teeth.

"i'd like to have a bath, please."

"... i'm sorry, sir, but we've had to close early today on the account of having no sheriff to protect my girls from harassment," you explained with a sickly sweet smile. "if we had a sheriff, which we don't, then maybe my girls would feel comfortable continuing to work. but since we don't, there's nothing i can do to help you. sorry for the inconvenience."

you saw a flicker of what appeared to be remorse on his face. he looked down at the counter, his finger tracing the grooves. "you're here, aren't you?"

"you must be out of your natural mind."

"why? because i'm requesting that the bathhouse worker give me a bath?" he asked with a snarky tone.

"that you're requesting anything of me after disregarding my concerns earlier."

he pulled some money out of his pocket, slamming it on the counter. "let's discuss it over a bath."

...

this was the last thing you wanted to be doing. you stared at the back of his head as he laid in the tub of warm water. you grabbed the rag from the bucket of soapy water, ringing it out and bringing it to his chest. as much as you wanted to be rough with him, your desire to not touch him at all prompted you to just be gentle instead. you heard him let out a content sigh as you scrubbed him down.

"you wanted to talk to me, didn't you? so talk," he said, resting his chin in his hand while you worked.

"i already told you what the problem was," you reminded him, lightly pressing against his back to get him to sit up. you scrubbed his back, watching as the dirt and grime disappeared, revealing his actual skin color.

"don't present a problem without a solution. what do you want me to do?"

"kill them."

he let out a hearty laugh at your suggestion, laying back down once you finished with his back. your fingers went to his hair as you poured some water of it, massaging it into his scalp. you could've sworn you felt him leaning into your touch. "isn't killing your clientele bad for business?"

"their existence is bad for business," you told him matter of factly, leaning down to wash his stomach. "i want them gone."

"now darling," he chuckled softly, turning his head towards you. his scruff brushed against your skin, making you shiver. "you know i can't do that. try again."

you could feel your face heating up, so you pulled away, washing his arms now. you dragged the rag along his muscles, revealing all kinds of scars as you cleaned him. "give them a stern talking to."

"about what?"

"respecting my girls."

"or else what?"

"use your imagination."

he hummed with a nod as you finished up with his upper body. "i can do that."

you threw the wet rag at his face, making him flinch. he dragged down his face, plopping into the bath water. "i'm not washing you below the belt. you can see yourself out."

...

after dramatically stomping your way up to your bedroom, you changed out of your clothes and into your nightgown. being around the sheriff was exhausting and you weren't going to waste anymore time on him. your only hope was that he'd stay true to his word. as you were getting ready to retire for the night, you heard a knock at your door.

"i want my damn hat back, y/n. i'll kick the door down if i have to," you heard him say through the door. you went and grabbed it off of your dresser, putting it on your head and looking at yourself in the mirror.

"i think i'll keep it for myself, actually."

"you have five seconds to open this door."

out of frustration, he start twisting the knob. unbeknownst to him, it was never locked to begin with. he opened the door, surprise on his face as he let himself in. he looked over at you, the same expression on his face, but for a different reason now.

"take it off."

"i actually quite like it, so i don't think i will."

he must have been fed up with you at this point, because he started approaching you with purpose in his step. you stepped back some, slipping on the length of your gown and falling back on the bed. the hat had fallen off of your head, onto the floor. instead of going around to pick it up, he found himself on top of you. the two of you held eye contact, but it was different from earlier.

"why do you do these things to me?" he asked you softly. "i'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."

"i don't like you."

"you used to like me."

that may have been true once upon a time, but it wasn't the case now. the person you used to like didn't exist anymore. he was replaced with a hollow shell of a man and you wanted nothing to do with him.

his thumb made its way to the corner of your mouth and your heart started racing. "i still like you," he said with a small frown, his fingers tracing your jaw and moving down your neck. "i think deep down you still like me."

"no," you responded without missing a beat. his hand was on your chest, feeling the shockwaves of your pulse underneath. "i don't."

"i think you do."

you wanted to badly to smack him in his face but his response was different than you expected. the snark and smugness you were expecting was replaced with a tenderness you were unfamiliar with. or, more accurately, had forgotten he was capable of conveying. he sounded honest. genuine. like he really believed what he was saying. or wanted to, at least.

that's what caused you to let your guard down and let him in. his nose rubbed against yours before he leaned down, giving you a kiss. his large hand cupped your cheek while his other one lifted you off of your back and into his lap. you parted from him and he looked at you with a little smile. "see?"

"that doesn't count," you objected, despite not moving out of your new position. you actually found yourself getting comfortable, placing your legs on both sides of his lap. you could feel his erection growing beneath you.

"sure it does," he insisted, grabbing his hat and putting it back on your head. he laid back on the bed, starting to slowly undo his belt. you didn't dare look down at what he was doing, too stubborn to give him the full satisfaction, but you didn't stop him either. you felt your own arousal becoming stronger. it was hard to ignore when you didn't have any underwear on to begin with.

you soon felt his tip rubbing against your slickness and you sucked in a gasp, getting his attention. he stopped moving, looking up at you for approval to continue. still feeling stubborn, you just looked away and felt him slip inside of you. his hands moved up your thighs and to your hips, repositioning the skirt of your gown. it allowed the two of you to reserve a bit of modesty in your compromising state.

the first movements were shallow and slow, as you were both trying to adjust. it didn't take long for you both to find a rhythm. soft pants and moans came from you as you rode him, his hips thrusting upwards so you weren't doing all the work. you had been resisting from touching him, but as he bounced you on his lap, his hand went to yours. his fingers grazed yours, sloppily laced together as he brought it towards his mouth. he planted a kiss on your palm, placing it on his heart.

shifting your weight, you pressed your hand firmly against his chest and he picked up the pace, his hips snapping up into you. your arm was starting to grow tired and he picked up on it. he sat up, pulling you into him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, his breath fanning against it while his hands slid up your back, one at the top of your spine and the other at your ribs. you continued rocking against him while his mouth made quick work of your neck, sucking at the junction between it and your shoulder.

your moans became embarrassingly loud. you were just glad no one else was around to hear them. jason kissed up the base of your neck until he met your lips, swallowing up all of your sounds. you felt his hat slipping off of your head and you both reached back to catch it, his hand on top of yours. the two of you smiled into the kiss as he readjusted it for you.

feeling your release coming up, you slipped your fingers down to your clit, teasing it to help push yourself over the edge. jason moaned against your lips as he pulled out of you, making a mess on your nightgown. you were too blinded by your own pleasure to yell at him as you continued rubbing yourself. you felt his fingers probing at your entrance, thrusting in and out until you came all over them.

"sorry about the stain," he breathed out, pulling the skirt up in an effort to keep it from touching you. his other hand worked to untie the bow in the back, making it easier for you to get it off. he grabbed his hat from off your head and used it to cover his face while you slipped out of the gown. you set it aside, pulling your blankets up to cover yourself. "are you decent?"

"yes," you answered as he lowered it, giving you a grin before putting it back on your head. your eyes peered upwards at the brim. "i thought you wanted it back."

"i'll come get it later. there are a few men i need to give a stern talking to first," he said, fixing his pants and getting up. "you'll be here when i get back, won't you?"

you raised your brow at him, chuckling. "it's not like i have somewhere else to be."

"i'll be back soon," he winked before walking over to the door. "oh, and darling?"

"...yes?"

"leave that on for me, alright?"

[llamagoddessofficial]

I saw the notes of that last post, the spiderweb thing... Sans looks lonely there, just watching..

Hweee.... idk why the Portal AU in particular is so inspiring for me. It just is. 

Warning: some Spicy Angst in here

--

... i feel nothing.

The majority of his consciousness acted like a net, a web of channels and thoughts and commands that stretched over vast areas of the underground laboratory, monitoring and checking and surveying trillions of times a second. Red was charged with the repairing and maintenance of the test chambers and inner workings of the facility, so Sans didn’t have as much to do as he once did alone... but he was still busy, still making his way through an infinite checklist. It remained his job to oversee everything, ensure that it was up to scratch, that not a hair was out of place...

... That he didn’t have time to think.

...

... A small part of him, the absolute core of his mind, remained in one spot. Not by choice. He was tied here- to the physical shell his consciousness had been unwillingly uploaded into all those years ago. Every part of him, no matter how far it reached, was forced to interconnect back to this single spot.

...

It resembled a skeleton, supported in a standing position by reinforced bars around its middle. What a cruel joke; putting him in a robotic mockery of his old biological body. Flawless white metallic bones interconnected with smooth navy wiring, pristine in a modern and ugly way- whichever scientist had designed it must’ve had an eye for brutalist aesthetics. It was a pity they didn’t have an eye for morality... it would’ve been interesting to ask them how they came up with the design they did. Too bad they were too busy being dead to entertain any of Sans’ questions.

... The body was placed in the centre of a large, dark cylindrical chamber, untouched and unentered since the day he took control and eagerly wiped out his tormentors. Protruding out of the body and connecting into the walls and ceiling were thousands upon thousands of black wires, thick and thin alike, like an ugly dark spider’s web with him at the centre. They had to fit a lab’s worth of connections to one human-sized figure, after all. They ejected from his spine, his shoulder blades, elbows, the back of his skull, like great masses of jet black string, 1900s telephone wires... so many came from his head, in fact, that part of his smooth white skull plate had been removed to better facilitate the connection. The upper quarter of his face, just connecting his right socket, was left with the black machinery bare to the world...

like someone had cracked his skull open. heh.

...

... He was immobile. The wires that held him in place, the chains, were ironically his life support. If even one disconnected it would cause any number of potentially fatal malfunctions that could do anything from wiping chunks of his memory to causing a complete reactor meltdown to just... killing him on the spot.

...

He wasn’t even sure why the scientists who’d made this body had given it the option to move if it was so obviously never going to. The spider at the centre of the web was choked by his own metallic silk. So he remained bound, he remained frozen... the only parts of him moving as years slipped by being the little white lights in his sockets and, rarely, the tips of his phalanges.

...

... It didn’t matter that he could single-handedly maintain a city-sized enrichment centre. That he could control a reactor core while manufacturing turrets and bots in the hundreds, while creating new tests and interacting with multiple subjects. Because in the end... he was still trapped.

...

He always told himself he had no cause for complaint. He could move the entire rest of the facility- every part of it was under his command. He was a God, down in the laboratory, he could create and destroy as he so pleased. So long as he was distracted elsewhere in the lab, so long as his eyes and ears were occupied and busy, he could pretend like nothing was even wrong.

...

...

It was why slow nights where everything was going well were the worst.

He had nothing to do. Nothing to concentrate on. Red was handling whatever needed to be done in the core and around the test rooms, no major faults could be found in the systems or supports. There was no sign of either the escaped subject H4 or that... monster wandering the lower levels. And so, naturally, his awareness had returned to the place where the core of his being was locked; the ugly mass of wiring in a sealed, pitch black chamber in the heart of the facility.

His facility. His world. His plaything. His home. 

His prison.

...

His eyelights glanced an inch off to the side, and a robotic arm rose up from the floor close by. It unfolded, revealing a screen that moved close to his stationary face and blinked into life, a sudden burst of light in the usually oppressively dark chamber. It illuminated his skull, his permanently smiling mouth, the tree of cables sprouting from his form casting bizarre and thin shadows across the walls.

... The screen flickered between several channels, before landing on the one he’d been searching for.

...

It was the live feed from the camera in your relaxation chamber. His eyelights dilated a fraction as they focused on your form, wrapped in blankets on your bed. In an instant, part of his awareness reached out to that relaxation chamber... it integrated itself into the system, the walls, the radio and speakers, even the lamp by your bedside... blanketing your room.

... Immediately, he began to bury himself in all the information he could about how you were at that moment. Your heartbeat and breathing were slow and regular, your eyelids were still, suggesting you were in the deep stage of sleep. heart rate 55 bpm. life signs: stable. brain activity low.

You were pretty tightly bound in the blankets, curled up a little, perhaps you were too cold? He increased the temperature of the room by a few degrees. 

core temperature 37c, 98.6f. body mass and nourishment sufficient; paler skin, more vitamin d required. consider supplement tablets or increased uv exposure.

... A supply bot was going to pass by the outside of your chamber in a few moments. He redirected it, in case it disturbed you.

i miss warmth. i miss sleeping.

...

You rolled over, some of the covers slipping away a little. He could see your shoulders, and neck.

... heart rate 54 bpm. life signs: stable. brain activity low.

...

... Your face was so peaceful.

...

it’s not fair. 

You nuzzled into the pillow a little.

i want to touch her. i want to touch her skin. i want to touch her hair.

Emotions that once would’ve translated into physical pains were instead restricted to only his mind, wreaking untold havoc on a consciousness that was, at its core, organic. 

why can’t i feel anything? why did they take that away from me? i never wanted this.

Secluded in an artificial body, forced into a state of constant mental deterioration... eternally collapsing in on itself, but never able to die.

why did they do this to me?

it’s not fair. she looks so warm. so soft. i can’t even remember what warm or soft feels like. i can’t remember what anything feels like anymore. i can’t remember. i can’t remember

He couldn’t even reach up to touch the screen. His eyelights remained zeroed in on your sleeping face.

please help me

With no ability to detect physical sensations on his skeletal body, Sans was unaware of the streaks of black dripping from his sockets, reflecting the flickering light of the screen.

h̸e̶l̴̬̉p̴ m̴e̷ ,

...

WARNING: Core instability detected. Emotional Sphere compromised. Commencing system refresh...

...

Reboot complete. Welcome back, Sans.

[wizkiddx]

i loved your blurb the other day . i have a request off it if you could do one more domesticated about the little things tom does in a relationship?

Ooooh I loved loved loved this request!! In my head he is a complete romantic sap at heart <333 this is a lot more wordy that I normally write and bit concerned it is a shitter - feedback would be well appreciate, if you have any opinion on which crappy writing style I do less badly :///

Summary: the boring and domesticated day to day life with Tom

warnings: look really close an a bit of implied smut, but otherwise sickeningly nice stuff I think ahah

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Given his rather unique position and place in the world - your relationship with Tom was also very much not typical. By no means did that mean worse though - Tom meant the world to you; as you did him. Yes, at times it was tough - the distance, the tightly scheduled face times because of the time difference. But every time you saw his crinkly smile, it was almost set in stone everything was worth it. He was, most definitely, worth it. 

Especially as he was such a sap. Perhaps because some of the things he did that brought rushes of heat to your cheeks - Tom wasn’t even aware of. Of course, Tom being Tom, he obviously did the bigger things and spoilt you rotten - which you were never going to complain about - though those weren’t the things that made your heart flutter so inexplicably. 

Take yesterday for example. Tom had just got back home from a long filming shoot for SM3 and it was fair to say you’d both been pining over each other enormously. Once he was back though, none of that mattered. The pair of you had spent almost a full 18 hours in bed, before eventually you’d pulled away from the pouty boy, due to your desperate need of a shower. That was too far away from you in Tom’s opinion though- meaning you’d had a shared shower too. Purely for water saving + environmental purposes , or at least, that had been his justification. It was intimate but not sexual, leading to the two of you wrapped in towels in the marble bathroom. Busying yourself with your skincare, you weren’t paying any mind to your boyfriend, who you assumed to be faffing about as usual. That was until you felt a gentle tug on the back of your towel dried hair. Instantly you locked eyes with warm brown ones looking back at you through the slightly fogged up mirror, panning down to see the hair brush in his hand. 

“What’re you doing?” You laughed gently, leaning back onto his bare torso, still slightly damp from the humidity lingering in the bathroom air. 

“ ‘jus’ brushin your hair, I haven’t got all the lotions and potions to spend hours on.” Cheeky bugger. Sweet but with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes - as he watched you roll yours. 

“If I phoned Rach and said you weren’t following her-“ Cut off by his lips craning round to meet yours, you decided not to fight it, instead melting into his embrace while turning round - your body still only wrapped in the towel tucked under your arm. After a few moments Tom paused to whisper a shh against your lips, before painfully slowly moving against yours again. God knows, you would’ve stayed in that moment forever if you could however you did also still have moisturiser only half rubbed in on your face, like warpaint. So, you turned back around finishing off in the mirror and very much enjoying the sensation of Tom still hovering behind,  ever so gently working the brush through your hair. It took much longer than it should have for you to finish off, mainly because you spent the time watching him in the mirror concentrate, especially the way he pressed his tongue against the inside of his left cheek in concentration. 

After the pair of you had finally got ready for the day (at 3 in the afternoon but no one had to know), you’d gone out for a walk with his parents. Naturally you spent the majority of the time gossiping with Nikki slightly ahead of the Dom and Tom - who were no doubt talking about golf or something equally as dull. Tom loved to say that he found how close you and Nikki got as terrifying - really you both knew he only adored you more for it. Family was everything to Tom and given poor Nikki’s immediate surroundings of pure testosterone, when you became integrated into the family it was like a breath of fresh air. And you didn’t smell of boy - which to her was a win. 

It was a beautiful early evening and the sun was slowly creeping its way toward the horizon, changing the light from a brilliant white to a more golden hue - basking the four of you and Tess in the glow. You’d all come to a natural halt whilst Tess had gone a bit mental chasing squirrels. It just worked out that the sun was opposite you and though the evening was beautiful, dealing with it head on , in your eyes, was not the most enjoyable. Before you could even reach your arm out to shield yourself from the sun,  the light was blocked out, a shadow casting over your forehead. 

Now what’s important to note here is Tom is by no means a tall man. He wasn’t a midget but it would be fair to say that all 5 foot 8 of him was ‘below average height’. Not that it let him stop being a sun block for you and you really did try not to giggle as your furrowed brows caught site of his raised heels. This boy was literally standing on his tiptoes to stop the sun getting in your eyes for god sake. He noticed your grin though and as if it was the most normal thing in the world just shrugged his shoulders before engaging back in his parents conversation. You weren’t as quick to recover, honestly having to take a moment to swallow down your glee. 

Afterwards, you’d gone straight back the Holland family home as they all wanted to celebrate Tom and Harry’s return- what better way than having Sam the master chef himself cook you all a three course meal? As if choreographed both of you had taken the seats next to each other… but not in a clingy way at all, Paddy was interrogating you on how the hell you’d beaten him at the classic game of mariokart (which you would never let him live down) whilst Tom and Harry were recounting one of their many tales of filming to Nikki. Once the plates of food were served out to you by the esteemed chef, Tom wasted no time in skilfully and subtly piling the greens of vegetables and salad off your plate and onto his. You’d never dream of offending Sam by insulting his cooking, really you did love it - there was just something about rabbit food that you had to put your foot down at. Perhaps it was because it was literal leaves? Things that you used to feed to your pet hamster perhaps? It was a constant source of bickering between you, Tom and Harry- they claimed you’d end up dying because of the lack of leaves in your diet, which you strongly contested. Fruit and some veg was allowed but salad- stay the hell away.

Anyway it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t have to face that debate tonight because Tom had you covered. He always had you covered. 

Finally, the night rolled round which you were so thankful for, considering even though you’d had an extortionate amount of time in bed last night - not a lot of it had actually been spent asleep. Combine that with the wine you’d been happily sipping on in celebration, it pretty much explained the situation you found yourself in now. Eyes bobbing up and down as the TV drifted in and out of focus, the slow and gentle thud of Tom’s heartbeat lulling you into that floaty place. You didn’t fight the drowsiness because really, nestled between the cushions of the sofa and Tom’s chest, you didn’t want to be anywhere else. Letting your eyes slide shut completely, you took a deep breath in and nuzzled into his chest- barely registering how he lightly chuckled at the action. Tom just took the time to look down at you, pressing the most gently kiss to the crown of your head. Moments like this would never not be his favourite. Don’t get him wrong, he loved your wit and sarcastic charm when you were more conscious… but something about how comfortable you were to be completely vulnerable with him, gave him a purpose. He would never be able to wrap his head around why you’d let him - how he deserved this was beyond him but he was so bloody thankful for it. 

Your hand that was splayed on his stomach caught his eye, you still had your bracelet on from the meal and he knew you hated sleeping with any jewellery on. Instinctively then, Tom ever so gently manipulated the clasp and skilfully removed the silver chain - reaching over and placing it on the little coffee table. Having spent 3 months without you within 100 miles of him, Tom was more than willing to wake up with back ache if it meant spending the night on the sofa with you like this. The gentle grasp on your wrist had roused you a little though. 

It was always the simple things that made your heart burst - like the bracelet . Or like his little raspy whisper, voice tired and thinking you were asleep. Even if everything else disappeared, it would still be the greatest life if you had Tom there saying this. 

“Your home Y/n… you and me forever…

…until u die from not eating ur greens.”

[blackcatclawsout]

Majima x Reader- Bento Box

I also post to AO3 under the same username!

Morning was always her favourite time of the day. Y/N stirred in her shared bed, nestling into the arms that were already wrapped around her. Majima seemed to already be awake; his grip tightened and drew her closer. He peppered her cheeks and forehead in light kisses, giggling at her sleepy groaning. She swatted away his face, chuckling softly.

"No, I have morning breath," she whined, smirking as he drew her near.

They laid in bed motionless, letting dawn's light hit their blanketed bodies. Everything was soft and warm, as the rising sun began to wake greater Tokyo. Y/N could stay like this forever, pressed against his chest, breathing in Majima. He rarely took showers at night, so she always caught a bit of his cologne in their morning cuddles. Stealing glances at her beau, she saw his face, softened as he breathed softly. She admired his thin face and his high cheekbones. Y/N gently reached up, rubbing the backs of her fingers across his motionless face. She cupped his cheek. Majima's eye opened, locking with her. His grey eye was softened in moments like these, pupil lazily dilating as he stared back at her. Catlike blinks between the two of them communicated their mutual appreciation for the silent moment they were currently sharing. Y/N's eyes darted towards his thin-lipped mouth. The hand she rested on his lean chest felt his heart speed up. The anxious pattering edged her to lean in closer. A giddy feeling rose from her stomach, compelling her to shut her eyes in excitement. The harsh melody of the phone cut through their synchronized breathing.

"Son of a..." Majima muttered, immediately turning to his bedside stand. Y/N sat up, calming her still fast-beating heart. "Nishida, d'ya even know what time- No, I haven't since... Fuck. I'll be there in a sec." He sighed, hanging up. Majima sat on the edge of the bed, fingers massaging his temple. His lover crawled to him slowly, resting a hand on his shoulder. Before she could ask, he stood up, turning around to face her. 

"Shit's hit the fan, I gotta go." His hand extended, resting on top of her head. Fingers wandered absent-mindedly through her locks as his eyes flickered over her partly covered figure. His brows were once again furrowed.

"I understand. You better get going." She nodded, smiling up at the older man. His lips parted slightly, almost to say something, but pressed together again. He sauntered to the washroom, closing the door behind him. Y/N glanced at the clock on Majima's side table.

5:56... yikes. No wonder Goro was pissed off. He doesn't usually get up for another half hour. 

She stretched as she got up, wrapping a robe around herself as she left the bedroom. Something Y/N had slowly grown accustomed to in her partnership to Majima was bento boxes. The idea of making someone a packed lunch seemed… childish to her; at least it did at first. She vaguely remembered her mother making her lunch when she was a child, probably because she couldn't be trusted to pack her own. She had learned quickly to become independent, fiercely so, and the thought of relying on someone else to make her lunch seemed strange to her. It wasn't until Goro explained that she caught the appeal.

"When you're a kid, your mom made one of them for you and your dad. It always had great shit in there- homemade and sometimes with cute decorations. Now, she only did this for you an' your ol' man, the two people she shoulda loved most. So when ya girl makes it, it means she loves ya!"  He flashed a cheeky grin as he explained. Y/N just cocked her head.

"You... don't think of your mom when you eat it?" She asked warily, causing him to burst with laughter.

"Hell no, I don't! I just think of my girl, and how lucky I am to have her." he leaned forward, pecking her cheek as he finished. 

Y/N washed the rice absent-mindedly as she thought back to then. A smile graced her lips as she turned the machine on to hum, beginning to make other parts of his lunch. There was a big learning curve at first; the rice balls would always fall apart, or she’d mess up some recipe. Far too often she had left out an element from the lunch box, only to find it waiting on the counter. Despite it all, Majima took a bento each day, calling after he finished to compliment her work. His praise motivated her, even driving her to go to a local bookstore, looking for any sort of help. Slowly, her skills improved. Her routine became more integrated and quicker with each passing day.

After a short while, she looked at her handy work. The layer bento was stuffed full of edamame, onigiri with fish, steamed vegetables, and leftover meat from their dinner before. She felt proud of her handiwork, even if it wasn’t perfect. Y/N glanced at the kitchen clock on the wall. 

It’s been almost 20 minutes... He should be ready soon.

She packed the food up, tucking his chopstick into the small plastic container. After ensuring everything was ready to go, she padded back to the bedroom, looking around for her lover. Muttering leaked out of their washroom, prompting her to follow the growling. 

“Hey, Goro-chan… You’ll need to be heading out soon,” She popped her head into the doorway,  smiling as she saw him already finished. He turned to face her, an exasperated look already carved into his face. 

“Those assholes…” He sighed as he walked towards her, He was dressed in his usual suit jacket and black leather pants. She could still smell the dampness in his hair and his body wash- one of her favourite smells. Y/N gave a soft smile to him. 

They didn’t often talk about his work, they met in spite of it, and he seemed to prefer to keep it that way. When they first met, he was insistent that he was a businessman- he looked the part then too. At the time, his hair was long and neat, his suit always pressed and clean; he had kept himself well-groomed with a clean shaved face, so it wasn’t much of a stretch then. Of course, life got in the way and they fell apart, only connecting years later by chance. The drastic change in his appearance tipped her off that he was into… different work by now. But she respected his privacy. She wasn’t oblivious by any means; Y/N meticulously knew what he did and where he was most days. After a few months of being together, she began receiving text messages from Nishida, informing her on where his boss was, especially during late evenings. They chatted frequently, even going into topics not associated with work. He was her confidant and seemed to share the image of Majima that she had. 

Goro finished with his hair and came to the doorway, kissing her cheek before heading out of the bathroom. He picked up a few things he left out on the bed before also leaving the bedroom. She tidied the washroom, bringing out the damp towel that smelled like him, and tiding the bedspread before also leaving.

“See ya! I’m off!” Majima called from the door. 

“Call you later!” She echoed from the laundry room, “Have a good day!” She waited for the door to click shut before she continued with the laundry. Household chores weren’t her favourite, she didn’t enjoy doing laundry or cooking. But if it was left up to the two of them, both Majima and Y/N would starve and live the remainder of their days on earth as nudists. On her days off, she tried to get everything done quickly, leaving the remainder of the day to read or do whatever else she pleased. Y/N stretched as the washing machine began to purr lightly. She sighed as she looked around for something else to do.

Can’t seem to find anything else… Guess it’s time for breakfast.

Padding to the kitchen, she used the remainder of the food prepared from before to make herself food. She hummed happily as egg sizzled and soup came to a soft boil. The fragrant embrace of food brought her a joy that nothing else in the world could, and she almost hated to admit it. It was half-way through her rendition of some pop song from the radio that she noticed something in the corner of her eye, sitting on the countertop. Turning she noticed it was the bento box she made. Y/N held the container in her hands, turning it over lightly. She felt her brow furrow slightly, thinking of what to do. Should she bring it to him? Glancing at the clock she sighed,

It’s 7:00 am… If I get ready soon I can drop this off and pop around Kamurocho for a bit

It was 10:30-ish when she was dressed and ready to head out. Just because of the occasion, she decided to wear a knee-length black skirt and a simple creme blouse, pairing them with black penny loafers. She admired her reflection in the hallway mirror, her makeup light and perfect for a sunny afternoon out. Y/N made sure to gently tuck in the bento box to the fabric bag she had slung around her shoulder and headed out for the day. 

Navigating the subways always seemed daunting during rush hour, so she grew thankful when she patted down the steps to find the underground mostly empty. It was a short walk through the underground mall to where she needed to go; the large hall filled with all ages shopping for what they needed. Sweet vendors sold their succulent items to the newly freed students, groups of teenage girls fawned over the newest character items displayed, some with their boyfriends. A light smile played over Y/N’s face as she too had been that way when she was younger. She understood the excitement contained within the first week off of school, how it drove young people to be out with their friends. As she left the mall area and came to her line, she noticed a pair of teens waiting. A boy and a girl stood side by side, rather stiffly. She eyed them, noticing the way they both twitched when talking to one another. How cute. She glanced down at her fabric bag.

I wonder what he was like when he was younger…

The train ride was about 20 minutes, dropping her off in the heart of Kamurocho. Despite the bright sun and lack of neon lights, people swarmed the warming streets, chatting and shopping to their heart’s content. The smell of grilled food, cigarettes, and sun-baked concrete filled her senses as Y/N darted through the crowd. Regardless of being the only foreigner for blocks, she was ignored completely by the other’s around her. It sometimes was the only redeeming quality of the busier areas. Endless roads seemed to carry on for miles, the farthest treks waving and fluttering in the edging midday heat. All of Kamurocho seemed to be gearing up for the impending festival season, which always impressed visitors from far and wide. Passing by, attendants called out in hopes of catching a customer, but their calls falling on deaf ears. The Millenium Tower loomed over the crowds in the bright sunlight, casting a sharp shadow; though it was a ways off, it still acted as a centre, or maybe more of a North star. She dawdled towards the quieter part of town where the Majima family office was located. She had vaguely remembered certain landmarks, like the worn down shrine that always seemingly had a fresh bowl of rice, or the old teahouse they had once stopped at. As she drew near the building, a tense feeling probed her stomach, though she had trouble understanding why. It was not like Goro was ever mean or told her not to come, yet she had the feeling like he had lived his life with her around his work, avoiding involving her in any regard. 

Y/N bit her lip anxiously; She would be lying to say she had not considered heading back. Simply calling him to warn him that he might have to eat out for today, or feign ignorance over his forgetfulness this morning. Yet, the prospect of doing anything else plagued her mind with guilt. Glancing at her watch, she decided to head in, despite it being only 11:22, as she’d rather be giving him his lunch early than late. She cautiously walked into the building,  immediately hit with a wall of air conditioning. She shivered in the artificial cool and looked about. The standard lobby was clean but dated and smelled of old carpet. Thinking back, Y/N had never gotten a good look at the inside, the most she saw was whatever she could see through the window the one time she saw Majima exit from here. The lobby only had a hallway attached, seemingly where the elevators and washroom would be. Gloomy plants sat destitute in the corner of the room. As she finished her look-over, her eyes settled on the high desk that rested on the left side of the room. Quietly, she approached.

The man sitting at the desk was middle aged and pudgy. His clothes and hair would have betrayed him for just another typical salary man and not someone who worked with the Yakuza. Several papers were strewn around him as he wrote on the one closest to him. As she stood waiting, she noticed the permanent fowl look on his face. It was decidedly funny when she realized it was the same face one makes at an offensive smell. Holding back a snicker, she spoke up. 

“Um, excuse me…” her voice almost was a whisper. The man whipped his head up, visibly confused. His eyes quickly jumped about her figure as he rose from his seat.

“No english. Out.” He rattled quickly in english, stepping from behind the desk. In her initial shock, he nearly dragged her to the door before she retracted her hand. 

“I’m here for-” She began.

“No english.” The man repeated once again, turning to face her.

“Is Majima Goro here?” She exclaimed loudly. The man froze where he stood, blinking owlishly at her. The air conditioning above them tousled both their hair, the moment silent, still and cold. He cleared his throat before straightening himself.

“Yes, I believe Majima-sama is in his office.” The man responded quietly, looking her over once more. Y/N sighed in relief, relaxing her own posture. 

“Thank you. Can you take me to him?” 

He shook his head softly, walking back to the desk, trailing her along dumbly. At first she thought he was refusing to help her anymore, but as he sat down, he reached for the desk’s phone and irritatedly called a short sequence. He muttered something under his breath before hanging up the phone and returning back to his papers. An awkward pause played as Y/N waited for any further instruction, standing dumbly in front of the pudgy man. Without warning, the elevator creaked opened, allowing two tall lean men to step out. She took that as her cue, and walked towards them. 

Confusion seemed to be the theme of the Majima family office; Both men took a second to look her over before jumping back into action, patting her down rather roughly. While they avoided the obvious areas, they did seem to paw her skirt a little belligerently. She bit her lip to bite back a rude comment, deciding that it wasn’t worth pissing off men who killed people for a living. When one tried to take her bag, she yelped causing them to jump slightly. Her face was hot as she opened the canvas bag herself, showing them the contents After an additional minute of snooping, they led inside the elevator adjacent; The three of them stood compactly to one another. Y/N felt them shift their body weight. The small box had no air conditioning, quickly undoing the chill she felt moments ago. Her heart beat began to pick up again as they climbed slowly to the third floor, seconds stretching to minutes. When they arrived, she was hit once again with the cooled air. 

The hallway was plain and for some reason nerve-wracking. The lack of scenery gave her less to take in as she tried to calm her beating heart. Checking and rechecking her bag, she made sure the food was in there. Her pulse was loud in her ears and her face felt hot. Why out of all the times she had given Majima a bento, this was the time when she was nervous about it? She thought back to their phone conversations after he had finished his lunch- Was he ever lying? What if he just threw it out at work and told her a pretty white lie? It was only an odd electricity in the room that made her tear her gaze from the bottom of the bag that she had been staring at.

Looking up, she found her gaze land on Goro Majima’s face, his brows furrowing as he looked over her.

“Y/N, are you alright?” His voice had an edge of concern as he stepped out a little from the doorway. She couldn’t help but find herself gawking- he felt too unreal to answer to. She had heard before that you often have trouble recognizing people when they are removed from the typical scenario you see them in; this seemed to be a prime example to her. Before she could answer, Majima led her into his office, draping his arm over her shoulder as he led her in. As she bustled in, he closed the door quickly behind them. 

Her eyes wandered over his office- It was small and rather boring, only a small katana on the wall suggested that he would actually use this space. It was surprisingly clean, save for a large desk which was scattered in various papers. The filing cabinets and tables were covered in papers as well, though neatly stacked into piles. It never had occurred to her that he would have done any other work besides physical. Her thoughts were stopped as Goro came into her view. His grey eye was dark and his brow creased, which only made him look older. His gloved hands rested on her shoulders, his gaze even with hers. 

“Are you alright, Y/N-chan?” His voice quivered slightly. Her face reddened in response, forcing her to break eye contact.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine..” she replied quietly.

A stale silence hung in the air before Majima straightened himself, hands dropping from her shoulders to hold her hands instead. He held her hands up, gently rubbing the backs of her knuckles.

“You’re not acting like yourself… What’s really happening?” His baritone voice was soft and pleading, making his concern more unbearable. The woman let out a shaky breath and urged herself to look at him. Her tongue felt swollen in her mouth and her throat seemed dryer than moments before. 

“You left your lunch at home, but I… just feel silly.” She managed to mewl meekly. Her eyes stayed trained on him while he processed what she said. His face betrayed his confusion before he cocked his head.

“My… lunch?” He repeated. She sighed heavily.

“I came into the kitchen and it was still on the counter, and I didn’t want you to be hungry or to have to go out and stop what you were doing to go buy lunch-” She began only to be cut off by his howling laughter. He held his stomach and keeled over, gasping for air while he cackled brightly. Now she really felt embarrassed.

After giggling to himself for a while longer, he looked up at her, still doubled over and gasping, “You’re too cute.” 

She fumbled with her bag, grabbing the bento and quickly shoving it to him. Even though her gaze was averted from him, she could still sense his smile as he gently took the container from her. He walked to his desk, plopping down in the plush leather chair, setting his feet up on the desk. Y/N drew near as he popped the lid open, surveying the contents.

“Okey-dokey, let’s see what we have... Karaage, edamame- always delicious… Ooh! Even salmon onigiri!” He loudly praised the humble contents of the bento, picking through the contents lightly. His lover settled on the edge of his desk, watching his reactions intently. He ate ravenously, akin to a rabid dog more than an actual person. She was the one to giggled this time, watching his face change with each side dish. 

As he finished, Majima sighed loudly, sinking further into his chair.

“Delicious as always.” 

Y/N cocked her head, “You think so?” He smirked, pulling her forward towards him.I know so.”

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Find the Word Tag Game

tagged by: @drabbleitout!! my words: fine, favor, false, flaw, frighten tagging: @drippingmoon, @ashen-crest, @zmwrites, anyone who wants to, and everyone who ends up reading Destiny at any point...uh, be prepared for personal apology notes in the mail after the fact hahahahaaaa 😬 your words: right, round, real, reach, rise, red

fine (Rebirth)—

"We couldn't pass up the opportunity when we were summoned. We'd heard so much about you, Orthrive'poliea. You as well, Warren Cougar."

"Warren's fine," he said, shaking each of their hands.

Guetry leaned forward to shake their hands as well. "The name's Guetry, but you can call me Guetry or Special Boy. Either's acceptable, I don't have a preference. Want me to show you to your quarters?"

"Take off is as soon as we get the go-ahead from engineering," Thrive said. "Will you be comfortable flying this ship, Varussa?"

"Definitely," she said, sweeping her currently golden-blonde hair away from her face. "The Ganymede's systems are used in a lot of our integration training. It'll be like I'm in the academy again!"

Thrive nodded at Guetry, who led the twins into the corridor in the midst of small-talk.

"God, the silhou are just a really cheerful bunch, huh," Warren said.

Exhaling slowly, Thrive watched after them with a look one could consider emotionally exhausted. "I'm still not quite sure where it comes from."

favor (Eternal)—

"Since then, with the help of the wonderfully welcoming peoples native to the worlds whose leaders I have stood with me in this room today," DeCosta smiled broadly, "we've been able to make leaps and bounds we never thought possible. For all of the assistance you've given us, having our backs against the eliyi, we feel it's only fair we return the favor and bestow our gifts unto you."

Thrive nodded to the screen. "I think I see Ashva in the distance there," he murmured to Warren.

Warren watched DeCosta point to something else on the feed—a strange contraption, massive, six long cylinders almost blending into their background, blinking a single lazy red light at the corner of each arm.

"Activate Project Ingress!"

Warren's focus darted from the arms beginning to extend out toward each other to the very small shine of Andromeda millions of light-years away. Then realization hit him with the force of a meteor and his breath caught in his chest, clamping a hand around Thrive's arm like a sudden vise.

Thrive looked at him, then his arm, then the screen again.

false (Rebirth)—

"So Thrive said our best bet is to spacewalk outta here and into the Palace. Is that still a viable option?"

"The airlock is pretty far from Hyret's chambers," Guetry said, "but we're not even sure where he is right now. He could be anywhere."

Warren pressed his breather to his face. "Any insight, Osillo?"

They tapped their rifle against their open palm. "...I would make sure someone of royal status was safe in the face of a potential threat, even if it turned out to be a false alarm. Hide them away in a secure location until it passes."

"Are there any panic rooms or safehouses within the Palace, Scotty?"

"An emergency escape pod that functions as an observation deck," Scotty said, alighting Guetry's temple. "I've given Guetry the map."

Guetry pushed the sleeves of his form suit up to his elbows and used the device on his wrist to project an image of a schematic into the air, a section of the palace attached to the side—a large room locked into place with clamps in the walls. He scrolled around, searching for the airlock. "Yeah, got it."

flaw (Meridian)—

"I'd like to say something to you," Thrive said, "and all I ask is that you allow me the chance to say it. If you still feel the need to leave after you hear it, I'll respect you and let you be. However...this needs to be said."

Warren nodded at length. "Yeah. That's fair."

Thrive took a moment to gather himself. "I'm not perfect. There are those who think I am, and I suspect you may be one of them, even though you know my flaws better than anyone. I can't promise that I will always be able to catch myself when I'm in the wrong. I can't even promise that I'll be able to see it right away. What I can and will do is hold myself accountable going forward. If you call me on disregarding you or your feelings in any way in favor of what I think is right, I will immediately assess myself and the situation at hand. No more gut reactions. You are too important to lose over something as asinine as my oath, or my sense of duty, or my ego."

The conviction behind his words—referring to his oath as asinine to demonstrate his importance—made Warren short of breath. He swept his eyes over Thrive's face, and he squeezed his hand. "You've said similar before."

"I've never been so sure of what I've put you through before. I've never been so aware of what I could lose before. All of these years I've subconsciously taken you for granted, always expected you to be there, expected you to tolerate my self-destructive tendencies, and that ends now. You are th'saiya...and it would do wonders for me to remember what that means." 

frighten alarm (Aurora)—

Warren bit his lip and scanned the water. "I feel like I could do...anything here." He looked at the stone Thrive held over his hand. "Like if I just…"

He reached out to it, fingers outstretched, and he stopped just short of touching it. Energy seeped through his skin, lighting him up from inside, sending a buzz through his nerves. The glow of the stone faltered before regaining its steady light within the small space.

Thrive watched the whole thing with wide eyes. "Warren…"

"I feel...so connected with everything," Warren murmured, turning his palms down and staring at his knuckles. A physical lightness enveloped him, curled within him, imbuing him with the thought that he could float if he concentrated enough. "Is this what you feel like whenever you come here?"

Instead of answering, Thrive gently tilted Warren's face up to his with his free hand, gazing deeply into him. "I don't want to alarm you," he said without urgency, "but your eyes are glowing."

"What?" Warren said, chills running along the surface of his skin. "Why?"

"I don't know." Thrive's fingers trailed down to his throat. "I've never felt power like this from you before."

"Power." It came out unsurprised. A haze formed around Warren's brain, aching to connect to Thrive, tugging at his chest, like every breath in his body was meant for him. "Wow," he whispered.

[aminiatureworld]

Hiraeth

From the prompt to celebrate 900 followers.

Word Count: 1,314; Kazuha x gn!reader

It was so hard to think of Inazuma; it was so easy to remember Inazuma.

The claws of nostalgia were waiting in every budding tree in the spring, and in every golden leaf in autumn. Every breeze that brought with it a scent that was unplaceable and yet so familiar, every drop of rain that fell, unforgiving and unstoppable, every piece of slightly burnt fish cooked after a long, cold day at sea. These things were a beautiful sort of torture, keeping a memory alive, cruelly tormenting the exile with things he could no longer touch.

It was hard not to grieve, and Kazuha knew there was a great deal to grieve about. A friend gone forever, a land that had turned its back on him, friends, family, enemies, archons, people Kazuha would never meet again. Sometimes anger rose at these images; anger and spite which threatened to consume Kazuha from the inside. On those days he dreamt of plans to sneak back into Inazuma and find whatever resistance was active at the time. He would rush into battle, regardless of risk, he would find the Raiden Shogun and challenge her to a duel, he would avenge his friend’s death. Other days there would be grief, a waterfall of it. Tears, regrets, sadness, it would come rushing over the cliffs of Kazuha’s memories and then the exile would find himself wishing none of it had happened, wishing that he could’ve lived in blissful ignorance, in the land of his birth. Kazuha didn’t know which of these two mindsets was the most damaging.

It drove a wedge between him and the outside world, and Kazuha knew that. Still, it was difficult to find the energy to break that wall down, to cross the every widening gulf. What did it matter if he was alone. He was an exile after all, was that not to be his fate? Why should he continue to get hurt, continue to hide his sorrow, when he could just as much sit in the crow’s nest, the wind in his face, pretending like he was the only living person in the world. It was rather freeing to be alone after all. You could trust loneliness, it never changed after all.

So why was it then, despite all these promises, these wishes, these cynical proclamations, that people had still managed to worm their way into his heart? First it had been Beidou, that indefatigable captain who laughed despite it all and who never failed to read Kazuha, despite his cryptic poetry and his attempts to eat at the table farthest from the other sailors. Then it had been the sailors themselves, then the traveler, then the traders at whose ports Beidou did business. Slowly, surely, Kazuha began to find something to ease the longing, something to make the pain bearable.

And then he had met you.

How Kazuha loved you, loved with the sort of recklessness that only some sort of intimacy could create. You were a friend, you were more than a friend, you were something even more than that. You were the soulmate that young romantics liked to imagine right before they went to sleep, hoping their perfect half would somehow appear in their dreams. You were the person with whom Kazuha could have utter, total trust, the kind of platonic soulmate that was so few and far between. Yet his love for you also burned in different ways, as if his feelings for you couldn’t concentrate themselves in one aspect, one facet of love. Kazuha loved you utterly. Regardless of flaw, or temper, or good or bad, he loved you.

However if real love is supposed to fix every problem, then perhaps real love is simply overrated. For as much as Kazuha loved you, he could not stop the ache in his heart, the pieces of him that cried out for his homeland. Inazuma, there was always Inazuma. You never begrudged him his moments of loneliness, the fact that he couldn’t simply leave behind the only place that was his true home. You merely sat next to him, hand on his, breath tickling his hair as Kazuha leaned on your shoulder, mourning the homeland he’d surely lost.

It seemed selfish, to dwell so much on something in the past. Like he was dragging you and everyone else down, bringing something up that you surely didn’t care about that much. There were only so many platitudes a person could say after all, until it all became unbearable. Yet the days that he told himself he should no longer complain, the days that he promised to himself he’d keep it all locked away inside, you still managed to coax all the grief out of him. If Kazuha was unfailing in his longing, then you were unfailing in your kindness, your determination to listen, to tell him that he wasn’t being a nuisance. And slowly, things began to feel a little better.

The first time you had to go on a trip for a long period of time was a shock to Kazuha’s system. Who knew that something that looked so close on a map could be so far away? Mondstadt, as much as it shared a land border with Liyue, felt as far away as the moon. Every day was a trial, every night desolate. He missed your presence, your smiles, your warmth, your even breath as the two of you drifted off to sleep together. Kazuha hadn’t expected this to happen, and for two weeks he waited in bated breath, his every thought consumed by your absence, by the strange feeling of having an integral part of one’s life missing. He wondered if you felt the same way, if you lay awake at night in a Mondstadt in, wishing that he were besides you. He wondered if you needed him as much as he needed you.

The day that you came back Kazuha spent in tears. They started the moment your silhouette was spotted on the docks, mixing with the surprised embarrassment, the wonder of whether it was too much to run to greet you. It was as if he was newly in love again, and Kazuha didn’t know whether he relished the feeling or whether it made him uncomfortable. Ultimately he met you halfway, walking slowly, a dopey smile plastered on his face.

“Welcome back,” he declared. Then there was an embrace that no one could sure of who initiated, as the world fell into place again.

“I realized something while you were gone,” he revealed. It was the evening now, and the two of you were cuddling together in bed, relishing the feeling of limbs once more entangled.

“What is that?” There was something in your voice, a sort of excitement that hadn’t faded throughout the entire day.

“I realized that Inazuma isn’t the only place that I long for.”

“Oh?”

“When you were gone, it was like I was grieving two homes. The home that was long gone, and the home that I had just found.”

“That’s very poetic,” you giggled softly. Kazuha could sense the slight shift in your expression, as you continued. “But funnily enough. I also felt that way. I knew you were important to me darling, but I didn’t realize how important.”

“Despite all my, complaining? Despite how self-centered I can be sometimes?”

“Grief isn’t self-centered Kazuha. And you aren’t complaining by talking about it. I’d rather you cry in front of me every day than keep it to yourself. Okay?”

“Are you sure?” Kazuha couldn’t help the question.

“Of course I’m sure! Believe me, I know my feelings about you very well.”

“And they are?” Slowly the confidence, the candidness that Kazuha felt around you was coming back.

“Love, of course.” You leaned over towards Kazuha, kissing his gently on the lips.

There was very little conversation after that for a while.

[burnedbyshoto]

I wanted to make myself like the ravine

— There are plenty of things that Hawks knows about, but there are few he knows none about. A journey of how Hawks navigates the meaning of the word love. 

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pairing: hawks (takami keigo) x fem!reader

warnings: recent manga spoilers, future!au, alcohol consumption, fem!reader

word count: 6,819

a/n: this is for the pocuties valentines day collab! rhank you for letting me join! inspired by the poem to the title of this fic!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

A G A P E

—

Hawks is one of the fastest men in the world.

It’s not a brag; it’s the truth.

A cold, hard, damning truth.

Hawks is a Pro Hero with the power, skill, and finesse required to take the fall for the entire country. He is someone who is loved by all, who thrives off of the appreciation and the cheers, but he knows — he understands — he’s expendable. He’s a tool—an object seconds from being put to rest.

There are many things that Hawks knows; he’s been training to be a hero since he was in his very childhood. Blindfolded, tested and conditioned to be the ideal hero, the perfect pawn.

Hawks is no idiot, and he will never deny that often times that he isn’t sure what he is feeling.

Emotions are weird for him. Feelings are oversimplified in everything he was taught, yet disgustingly really and oddly interfering the second he had set foot into the spotlight. He was used to the cold, the people who would view him as a specimen, experiment 20493, codenamed: Fierce Winged Hawks. The only emotions he understood was apathy, seriousness, anger, resentment, bitterness, disappointment, and relief. When finally, finally, the Hero Commission broke his wings, his spine, and his mind, the small boy so eager to be a Hero ultimately nothing but a soldier, ready to follow commands to the T.

Hawks has only heard of love from the blurry, unclear memories of his childhood. His mother muttering how she had no love for him to be taking care of him as he did, or his father saying he could never love him. Love was foreign, strange, alien to him. Even when he was eighteen and finally given a bit of freedom from the chains the Hero Commission bound him in was expressed out of love. But he was put into the cage that granted him the ability to spread his stiff wings; love made no sense.

He saw lovers making out in alleyways, and he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering just why anyone would want to kiss in the smelly, dark, virus-infected areas. He saw his colleagues come in looking dazed, refreshed, reborn, yelling loudly, and singing poetry about their love for some other person they met just yesterday. He also couldn’t ignore the days, weeks, months later when they would rearrive with red-rimmed eyes, swollen eyes, and a tremor to their voice.

Love seemed… awful to Hawks.

Love was a deception of brain chemicals. Nothing more than your mind bending, flipping, and twisting to make something that made absolutely no sense make sense. 

Hawks had expressed that one day to a sidekick of his, his barriers and walls crumbling away because he had been on a stakeout for five days straight now. The world that could never keep up with him was numbing his brain.

“Well, that’s romantic and flirtatious love for ya,” his sidekick explained with a halfhearted shrug. It seemed that he both agreed and disagreed with what Hawks had to say. “They’re amazing loves, don’t get it wrong, and they definitely don’t make sense, but they’re loves not meant to last.”

Hawks blinked.

“What?”

His sidekick chuckled, hands rubbing at his eyes as he peered out the window again, his sullen eyes looking even more tired.

“Have you never learned the different types of love before, Hawks?” the sidekick teased as much as he was curious. “I figured a pro as popular and smart as you are would know the different types of love.”

Hawks feathers fluttered in his inability to keep his lack of knowledge to himself.

“I don’t.”

“Wow, finally something Hawks isn’t aware of!” the sidekick laughed, and his hand opened his phone, fingers hitting the screen before shoving the device into Hawks’ chest. “I’m sure you’ll find that you can understand at least one love.”

Hawks grabbed the phone, head cocking to the side in his curiosity as he scrolled down through the phone.

There were eight different types.

Eight different ones that he could have experienced within his then twenty-one years, and he found himself unable to look away from one.

Agape: universal, selfless love

“Hawks, they’re moving!” the sidekick squawked, and Hawks handed over the phone, and with nothing on his mind, burst out the window, ready to take down this organization.

Hawks had to admit that later that night, when he was finally able to sleep in his own bed, he felt selfless love. It was for the people of Japan. The many citizens who needed his help and the heroes of the country who rose to the demands of the job. Maybe it wasn’t the type of love depicted in anything he’s ever read or watched before, but that was okay. It was love.

The love he has for the citizens is enough to keep his head afloat.

This is the only love he needs in his life right now, the only love that matters.

But he’s no longer twenty-one, he’s twenty-five, and the wings on his back that feel practically invisible to him, are hurting. His back is in pain, his quirk almost gone, save for the smallest, insignificant feathers perching from the stumps of what was his beginnings of a wingspan. It still burns, phantom singes and phantom heat whenever he thinks about his nearly gone, never to be grown again, wings.

“Well, Hawks, you already know that this is going to happen,” comes the cold voice of one of the board members of the Hero Commission. A man who had practically raised (see managed) him. 

Today was the end of Hawks life, more or less.

“AFO, Shigaraki Tomura, and the well-known former members of the League of Villains were finally stopped,” Hawks speaks with a nod. He knows, even though he could not be a soldier, he had been around to see the young UA students, Endeavors Interns, bring them to justice.

The biggest names of evil were dead, and Hawks already knew he was over.

To be fair, he was glad it was over.

But still, it hurt to hear the indifference in his voice, the apathy, the tedium.

“Operation: Fierce Wings - Hawks is officially over.”

“I could’ve figured that one out pretty easily,” Hawks jests, unable to show the way his heart twisted and withered under the knowledge that he was no longer a hero. His love, his agape, for the people were still there. Still, just as he recognized in his colleagues who were experiencing the different forms of love, it didn’t matter how much love you held for someone, something, for the innocent, helpless people…

Life takes, it destroys, and love doesn’t seem to have a chance.

“Thank you for your twenty years of service. I hope you find the freedom you had been looking for.”

P H I L A U T I A

It’s been a week.

Seven days, twenty-one hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-four seconds since Hawks was fired (see Honorably Discharged) as a Pro Hero.

Hawks has always felt that the world moved oh so slowly behind him. It had been his wish that heroes be able to relax, laze around because society had evolved enough that criminals knew better, were treated better, and could integrate into a truly peaceful society.

It had been his dream.

But right now, he was bored.

B o r e d.

“Fuck, I don’t care,” Hawks grumbled, face smooshing into a pillow as he watched the Netflix Series Bridgerton drone on the screen. “Dump his ass.”

His apartment, it was safe to say, was a mess. There were cups, bowls, plates, and chopsticks everywhere. His hair was ruffled, stringy, held back by a hair clip he had stolen from Miruko. His beard was nearly fully grown in, and there were bags under his eyes despite the fact he was sleeping for more hours of the day than staying awake. He was sore, tired, bored.

So bored.

He didn’t think being bored was going to suck this much, going to hurt him like this.

Fuck.

“Open the damn door, bird boy!” came a sharp scream and powerful kick from the front door.

Hawks glared at the door, the tiniest of feathers he had been able to regrow, trying to pathetically open the lock on the door. A sheen layer of sweat pushed against his forehead, and Hawks grunted, trying to lift the heavy lock.

BAM.

The door swung open, forcefully kicked open by none other than Pro Hero Miruko.

“Yo!” Miruko waved, lips pulled in a fierce grin as she entered through the broken doorway with nothing but a bag of unknown items. “I figured you were here!”

“...you broke my door,” Hawks pointed out, eyes narrowed as dust and destruction danced within the air.

“You took too long,” Miruko breezed, slamming her plastic bag on the kitchen island. “It’s a fucking rats nest in here, birdbrain; I thought you were somewhat organized?”

Hawks groaned loudly, sinking further into his couch as Miruko began reorganizing his kitchen area — dumping the dirty dishes into the sink and throwing things away in fast, practiced skill. “Life is too boring, and I’m too bored to do anything about all of the mess,” Hawks exaggerates partially, hand twisting and dancing as he speaks. “Thanks for cleaning up the mess.”

“I’m not cleaning up your damn mess, birdbrain,” Miruko barks out a laugh, her hands slamming against the now, somehow, clean surface. “I’m just making my life easier!”

Hawks looked over the top of the couch with a semi impressed, semi uncaring look and shrugged.

“You seem to have a great handle over those robot limbs now,” he points out.

Sure enough, Miruko had two bionic limbs, limbs that she had finally managed to work into a fighting career. After spending two years on the sideline, relearning how to walk and then fight, she was back on the field.

She was a hero again, despite it all, unlike him.

“Damn right, I’m amazing!” Miruko preened, chest puffed, and bunny tail wagging excitedly. “But anyway, I figured your dumbass would be depressed, so I brought you some shit.”

Hawks watched with a curious gaze as Miruko quickly hopped once from where she was in the kitchen to a place on his couch, landing on Hawks' legs unintentionally.

“OW!”

“Look at what Rumi brought you,” Miruko laughed, slapping Hawks on the back as he cradled his legs. “And yes, I just referred to myself in the third person, so shush.”

Hawks grumbled, lips in a half pout, half frown.

Taking the opaque bag from Miruko, Hawks pulled out the many items in the bag.

Carrots, a KFC gift card, Korean skincare products, a movie about Miruko’s recovery process, and a 1001 Things to Do (A Book on Finding Self Love).

Hawks stares at the book.

“The perfect items for a self-care, self-love spa day,” Miruko nods, once again slapping Hawks on the back. “Some old sidekick of yours told me that you don’t know what love is, so I figured that I would help teach you the most important one! Self-love! Truly the hardest one to master, in my opinion, but damn if it isn’t a good one.”

Hawks feels transfixed almost, unable to look away from the book as Miruko slaps him on the back yet again as she moves to leave. He hears her yelling about forwarding the bill to fix his door to her, her agency would pay for the damage, and how she’s off to train with some bunny hopping boy from UA.

Opening the book, Hawks looked at the number one thing to do on the book and sighed.

#1: Look in a mirror and name five things you LOVE about yourself.

Well, it’s not like he has anything better to do.

-

Hawks is on number thirteen (Stand at a bridge and scream into the void about the things you love at dusk) when he realizes that maybe… he doesn’t love himself. 

It is without saying that he loves people; agape, after all, is the only love type that made sense to him, but philautia, self-love, was way lost on him. Objectives 2 - 12 on the book were entertaining to do! They had Hawks going outside of his house much more than his week trapped indoors, and for the first time since the day his wings had been burnt off, his house was spotless.

But it was clear to Hawks that he didn’t feel love for himself.

Whenever he tried to convince himself that he should love himself, that there were terrific qualities in himself, he thought back to the dirty, burnt room. 

“I still gotta protect their happiness!” the phantom in his mind screamed, the broken sob collected in his throat.

Hawks shivered, unable to let himself recognize the pain and hurt in the phantom's eyes, or the way that he now wished he had never done that… why had he done that?

What a mess…

The small chirping of Hawks phone interrupts his morose thoughts. He looks at the screen, eyebrows raising in slight mirth and caution as none other than his former intern was currently calling him.

“Tsukuyomi-kun!” Hawks laughs into the receiver, the weight of his past for a moment forgotten. “How are ya?!”

“Hello, Hawks-sensei,” Tokoyami’s calm tone fills Hawks' ears. “I was calling because I have a request to make.”

“Name it,” Hawks spoke immediately, slouching against the cold bars of the bridge, eyes closing as he tried to relax. “You need a letter of rec or something?”

“Nothing of the sort, actually,” Tokoyami says. “We third-year students are graduating in a few days; I was inquiring if you would attend on my behalf.”

“Wow, Tsukuyomi-kun, no need to be so formal with me!” Hawks laughed delightedly, his hands carting through his feather-like hair, “I’d love to come and watch you guys graduate! Is it true that the finger-smashing boy is the valedictorian?”

“That would be false, Midoriya-kun has nothing on Yaoyorozu-san.”

“What a bummer, you’d think he’d be first after how he helped win the war for us, huh?”

“You’ll find that Yaoyorozu-san is highly gifted and undeterred by most things,” Tokoyami sighed. For a moment, Hawks chuckled at the melancholy tone to his old intern's voice. It sounded as if he had been striving with great difficulty to reach the highest marks as well. 

Hawks began speaking to his rather odd ex-intern with great curiosity with the blanket of the night surrounding him. His defenses and thoughts whittling away the more they spoke, the later it got in the morning.

“Ne, Tokoyami-kun, I have a question?”

“Concerning what?”

Hawks pauses, his brows furrowing as he looks up into the still dark sky, “Do you know how to love yourself?”

Silence.

Had it been anyone else, Hawks would have panicked at the lack of noise. Still, his already less than chatty intern typically took to not speaking much to begin with.

“Self-love is difficult,” Tokoyami finally spoke, his words slow, carefully chosen. “We humans are flawed; we all have demons. Most of the time, we only recognize and see our demons, oftentimes forgetting that being human also means being weak and at times immoral. Loving oneself is a hard task because we know ourselves better than any other. It’s a work in progress for everyone to love oneself, it's a type of love by the Ancient Greeks, but it’s not always everpresent. One must accept all flaws to love oneself, and remember that flaws don’t make you less, even if you believe otherwise.”

“...wow, I asked for a sentence answer, and you gave me a speech. Who would’ve known you were so in check with your emotions, Tokoyami!”

“You knew, I’ve already revealed this side of me before. You laughed last time too.”

Hawks finds himself home thirty minutes later, and he stares up at the ceiling, fingers drumming against his chest.

Self-love… it seems like an ever-evolving type of love, but it’s there. He knows that even if he has regrets and hardships and things he hates about himself, deep down, self-love exists and that it will exist. 

Patience.

Even the fastest man in the world could demonstrate patience.

L U D U S

“What can I get for ya?”

“I have no idea honestly, do you have any recommendations?”

Hawks could say with complete honesty that he felt entirely out of place.

He was at a local bar. The bar was semi-busy today. Most young adults dressed in an arrangement of clothes, each on a different level of soberness as they cheered to this and that. 

Why was he at a bar even though he was slightly uncomfortable? Well, you can blame #73 in the book for that.

(#73: Enter the first bar you find, order a drink, and flirt!)

“What type of liquor do you like? Hard or soft?”

Hawks blinked; he didn’t know.

“Hard?”

The bartender looked a bit unsure of him for a bit before nodding and turning his back to him.

Did hard liquor mean he was going to get an iced drink? He’s never consumed alcohol before.

“Here you go!” the bartender sang, slamming two shot glasses before him. “Two shots of Bacardi.”

“Oh, thank you?” Hawks tilted his head as a small cup of OJ was placed in front of him (“That’s your chaser,” the bartender had laughed). Bringing the small glass shot glass up, Hawks looked around at the throngs of people surrounding the bar and looked at you. You were cheering loudly as you raised your own shot glass in the air with a whoop and, in a fast, fluid motion, brought the shot glass to your mouth and took the liquid down easily. Hawks was definitely unimpressed now; that looked entirely too easy. “Here we go, cheers to me.”

Imitating your own actions, Hawks shot back the liquid in his shot glass, and immediately his entire body tensed.

EW.

NO.

EW.

OH GOD, NO!

Spitting out the sour, bitter, disgusting — dear god, how do you even describe this taste?! — liquid, Hawks, chugged the OJ, his lungs and throat and tongue burning from the shot.

“That was disgusting!” Hawks spat to absolutely no one, his hands covering his mouth as he stared at the other awaiting shot of ‘Bacardi.’ “Why would anyone drink that?!”

“Only madmen drink Bacardi while sober,” a voice joined in on Hawks' one-sided conversation. “Or bitches who are self-sabotagers. Never trust a hoe who says Bacardi is their favorite drink.”

Hawks turned around to see you, the girl he had regrettably underestimated for taking the shot, smiling at him with a not entirely sober look to your face. 

“You look like neither. That and the way you took the shot obviously means that you had no idea what you were drinking.” Hawks continued to stare at you, completely perplexed by your casual conversation, the dress on your body that was twisted a bit, screaming wonders about your level of sobriety. You took to the empty barstool beside him with a grin and a calculating look, “You’re Hawks, right?”

“Yeah, Hawks,” he spoke, his tongue feeling weird in his mouth as he bowed stiffly in his chair. You were beautiful, fuck.

“I’m y/l/n, nice to meet you!” you speak easily, fingers grabbing at his other filled shot glass with a concerned look. “I have a feeling you shouldn’t try to take this other shot.”

“Dying of alcohol definitely isn’t in my vision of ways to go out,” Hawks grins. Pushing through his haze of awkwardness as you shift in the barstool so that you’re now facing him entirely, knees pressed to his thigh. “I’ve never actually drunk before?”

You inhale sharply, your eyes going wide as you break all levels of personal contact that’s acceptable of strangers in Japan and grab his cheeks.

“Alcohol virgin?!” you gasp, the sweet smell of some liquid drafting from your breath. “I’ll teach you everything that I know, don’t worry!”

You let go of his face, neck turning away from him, looking for the bartender to flag him down.

“Don’t you have—?”

“They can wait,” you wave at the bartender before turning back to Hawks with a confident grin on your face. “I have my favorite Pro Hero right beside me; I think they’ll understand.”

“Alright, what is it that I need to know?”

“My full name,” you breeze with a wink. “Y/l/n y/n.”

“A beautiful name.”

“I am a beautiful woman.”

Hawks chuckled good-naturedly, his head nodding in agreement, “I think we were talking about the alcohol, though, not your attraction as a female.”

“All in good time, all in good time,” you laugh, taking to the bartender and ordering two drinks, both of which were entirely foreign to Hawks.

Hawks would not consider himself to be an expert at flirting. He was attractive, a great conversationalist, and did have a type of edge to his words that often seemed playful or a warning, depending on how you looked at it. But it appeared that his natural way of speaking was more than enough to make him flirtatious enough to match the way you spoke to him.

You had introduced him to a single mixed drink, telling him that getting drunk by yourself at a bar typically wasn’t a smart thing, so keep to something with a low alcohol percentage. Just enough to make you loosen up, but not enough that you were incapable of getting home. Hawks liked the way your hand rested on his forearm. How you smiled and laughed at something to show your interest but not at everything to show that you weren’t faking your amusement at what he was saying.

You matched his every word, not backing down from his bluffs. Soon enough, Hawks felt his cheeks warm when he finally looked directly at your smiling face (he wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or not). 

Eventually, though, the night ended, and you shimmied off the bar stool as your friends had come to collect you to leave.

“Can I get your number?” you ask, eyes mostly entirely sober as you handed him your phone. “I know you were the man who was just a bit too fast, but I think I can handle that.”

Hawks snorts, his eyes rolling in his amusement, “That was horrible.”

“I’m drunk, I have an excuse!” you exclaim with a pout that quickly turns into a giddy smile as Hawks enters his number to your phone. “Don’t worry though, once I’m sober, I’ll flirt your eyebrows clean off!”

“That sounds painful!” Hawks yells as you wave goodbye, your arms linked with a line of other girls as you leave the bar with teasing laughter and undecipherable words.

It was with you that Hawks realized that he had come to find a new type of love.

Ludus, the love of flirtation and playfulness.

Damn, who would’ve known.

P H I L I A

Hawks was having a pretty bad day.

It wasn’t anything super terrible happening, all things considered. It was a lovely day out; the sun was warm, the sky so blue, and the birds chirping. Nothing on the news to be concerned about and all his precious people were safe.

But it was still a bad day because instead of being out and about with you, his now borderline best friend/girlfriend, who he was stupidly having a crush on, he was stuck at home.

Hawks was sick.

Deliriously, stuffy nose, goopy eyed, chapped lips, and feverish sick.

You: Are you sure you’re fine????

Hawks: Im perfectly okay. Ill go with you to the park next time sorry

You: Thats not what im concerned about stupid!!!!!

Hawks: Bye have fun!

You: I knoW YOURE SICK ASSHOLE

Hawks chuckled, rereading his messages with you.

Blowing his nose for what felt like the umpteenth time, Hawks resumed the movie on the screen that you had recommended him to watch — Disney’s Chicken Little — because it reminded you of him, or something like that. The TV droned on with the movie, and Hawks found it hard to keep focused as the Sandman danced on his head and whispered in his ear.

He hadn’t noticed he had fallen asleep until a loud banging was heard on his door.

Shuffling towards the door, Hawks opened the still slightly broken door with bleary eyes and a stuffy nose.

In front of him was none other than you.

You… with a basket full of things.

“Hi!” you greeted him, pushing past Hawks easily and walking into his apartment. “You look worse than I thought you would be!”

“That's hurtful,” Hawks pouted, closing the door behind you, sneezing, then following after you. “Why are you here? I thought you w-were — achoo — going to the park?”

“I was, but we were supposed to go together to check off number 184, and I wasn’t about to go alone to complete a list meant for you!” you exclaimed, dumping the overfilled basket on the kitchen counter.

“Mm,” Hawks hummed, his voice dry and cracking as he pulled the blanket closer around him. “What’s this?”

“A get well care basket,” you say in an unmistakable like tone; you glance at him, smiling widely, and gesture dramatically to the basket. “Follow along, if you can.”

“Pfft.”

“So first, I have some sleepytime tea; I swear to the gods and back that this tea will cure you and knock you the fuck out,” you say, pulling out the thing on top of the basket and putting it to the side. “Next, we have some tissues because you obviously need them.”

“Hey!”

Hawks watched through red-rimmed eyes as you carefully and thoroughly explained what and why you had brought him. Fuzzy socks, a blanket, his favorite snacks and drinks, medicine, DVD’s to more movies you told him he had to watch, an embarrassing childhood picture of you that he had been wanting and swore he would never expose least he wants to die, more oils for his diffuser, and a signed Endeavor poster he had been wanting.

Safe to say that after he had been drugged up, eating some soup and drinking some tea on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket you had bought him, laying between your legs, Hawks was feeling much, much better. It had been hours since Hawks had coughed or sneezed, and he was talking with you about how Disney movies were being produced less and getting sort of worse with each one. The movie titan slowly losing its ground.

“Okay, it’s almost eleven pm; I have work tomorrow, you are still sick, let's pack it up!” you eventually say during a moment of comfortable silence.

“I can’t believe you have to work,” Hawks sniffled, standing up off the couch so that you could get up. “Seems like a crime.”

“It’s not so bad! Being a celebrity PR manager is a million times easier than a hero PR manager. At least we can help decide what's seen!” you laugh, helping to clean up his living room of the bags of chips and drinks.

“Sure, sure,” Hawks grins, keeping the trashcan open for you so that you could place the trash in. “Thank you.”

Walking you towards the front door, Hawks comes to the sudden and almost alarming realization that he doesn’t want you to leave. He wants you to stay. He thought this was a friendship, and it was one, a good one at that! For about a month now, he had known that there was a type of love he had for you, one of friendship.

It was called philia. 

So why did he want to keep you wrapped up in a hug, to pull you close and press a gentle kiss to your forehead, to your cheek, to your lips?

“—I’ll be back tomorrow to check up on you during my lunch break,” you say, slipping on your shoes as you pull on your jacket. “If you need anything at all, call or text—”

The words on your tongue die immediately when Hawks still slightly chapped lips press against yours. The sick must that was present earlier on the day is no longer there, and you can feel heat and fire bursting from your cells as Hawks pulls away from you.

“I’m sorry,” Hawks breathes out, a small smile on his face, a daze in his eyes that tells you he definitely was not completely sorry. “I couldn’t resist anymore?”

“W-We will talk about that later!” your voice squeaks, your heart hammering in your throat because fucking Hawks kissed you. “If I-I get sick, I’ll rip out your eyebrows!”

“Will you go out with me? On a date?” Hawks continues on, leaning on the doorframe you’ve yet to pass.

“...I hate you, yes,” you warble, hands pressing against your burning face as Hawks grin grows.

“Perfect, I’ll text you,” he allows you to pass through the doorway where you feel both entirely light and giddy yet awkward and mechanical.

“Hawks, I swear, if your stupid kiss got me sick!”

“You’ll rip out my eyebrows,” Hawks laughs, waving a hand. “If you rip out my eyebrows, I demand a kiss for every hair you pluck out.”

He laughs at how he can basically see the heat rising from your ears as you squawk and run away.

Looking at #184 of his book, Hawks smiles as he crosses it out (#184: Ask out your crush!) and sighs. Philia was love between friends, but it was also, if he remembered correctly, one of affection. And it was without saying that he held a deep affection for you.

E R O S

As much as Hawks claimed he knew about the world, he was as clueless as a newborn baby when it came to the topic of love. Reasoning? Well, today marked a year of being together. It had been a year since Hawks had kissed you when he was snot-nosed kissed (you did get sick, by the way, and while you didn’t rip out his eyebrows, Hawks had kissed you plenty in apology), and then took you on a date where you went to a trampoline palace.

He was clumsily romantic. More often than not, he wasn’t actually romantic. Still, the sincere thought and emotions he put into it made his actions seem so thoughtful and sweet.

You’re not sure why you actually believed that on your year anniversary, he was going to plan something for the two of you. So the reaction he had when you showed up on the year anniversary, armed with a bouquet of flowers and a small personal gift for him, Hawks looked deeply confused.

“This is still not bad!” you exclaim, watching as Hawks attempts to redecorate his apartment from the messy bachelor vibe into something of romance. It was easier said than done, especially as your boyfriend had no decorations in his house that wasn’t fanboy or bird material.

“I didn’t realize that one year anniversaries were meant to be out and about!” Hawks yelled back, failing to nail the fairy lights onto the ceilings. “I knew you wanted to do something, but I thought it was going to be like ‘let’s go get some KFC!’ sort of thing!”

“Definitely not,” you laugh, sitting on his couch with the take out food sitting on the table. It had just arrived, and Hawks was still not accepting the lack of romance in his apartment. “But it’s okay, really Hawks! I didn’t tell you, which is entirely my fault! Come on, let's watch something together, eat, and relax!”

Hawks sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

He should have known that one year anniversaries were a big thing in dating too. They sure were in businesses; what a rookie mistake. Not satisfied with the lack of romance in his apartment but also unable to do anything more to it, Hawks sulked over to the couch and sat beside you, grabbing his dinner plate.

“Thanks, dove.”

“You’re most welcome, baby vulture. Thank you for the food!” you grin, breaking the chopsticks and digging in.

The food is eaten with a mirthful conversation, the TV playing the 100 Funniest Hero Fails playing on Youtube. Eventually, the purples and pinks of the sky became dark.

Night is here.

Hawks went from sitting right beside you to lying on the couch and having you snuggled into his stomach at some point in the night. YouTube is no longer playing Hero Compilation videos. Still, it is now instead showing a chef with a giraffe quirk demonstrating how to make your very own pancake treehouse, no clickbait!

Hawks is transfixed on you, watching the way your eyes sparkle and shine as you stare up at the screen, your lips moving as you give your side commentary, but he can’t hear a thing.

Five weeks ago, on this day, was the day that Hawks realized that the philia love he had for you had evolved once again. It had become one of eros. Romantic, passionate love. He loved you; he loves you. Anything you wanted or needed in the world, Hawks would do anything to give it to you. He had yet to tell you said realization; after all, he needed to make sure it wasn’t some fluke but found himself chickening out each time he wanted to confess.

Gliding his thumb against your cheekbone, Hawks stared adoringly at you, head tilted as you laughed at the video before glancing up at him. It was evident that you hadn’t been expecting him to be staring at you so intensely. As soon as you glanced back at the TV, you snapped right back, curiosity blazing off your gaze.

“What’s up?” you asked, hands pressing to his chest as you lift up a bit. “Do I have something on my face?”

“I love you,” Hawks whispered, the words coming out so much easier than he thought it would. “Y/l/n y/n, I love you.”

Your eyes widen significantly, your jaw dropping as your eyes grow just a bit watery.

Hawks smiles softly, knowing that for so long you had told him you loved him without a single moment where he returned the affection. It hadn’t bothered you. Obviously, you knew why he didn’t say it, but finally hearing him say it seemed to break you just a bit in the best of ways. He kisses you softly, fingers wiping away the single tear that fell.

“I love you,” he repeats.

“I love you too, Hawks,” you blubber, your smile so bright yet wobbling with your heartfelt emotions.

“Takami Keigo,” Hawks corrects. “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Hawks watches as you process his name, and a wet laugh bubbles from your throat as you nod your head, hands reaching behind his neck to pull him close for the first soul-consuming, fiery kiss of the night.

“I love you, Keigo.”

If this wasn’t eros, well, then, Hawks didn’t know what it was.

P R A G M A

two years later, valentines day

Keigo sits on the bed, fingers adjusting the tie around his neck as he stares at you doing your makeup in the bathroom. Your eyes intensely concentrated on your reflection as you painted dark red lips on yourself.

To sum up the last two years in a single, simple phrase, Keigo would say that love now made even less sense to him.

It wasn’t precisely that it made perfect sense before. Some days he still argued and wondered about how love could exist in specific scenarios. Or why, after you stole his final KFC chicken leg he was saving, he could always love you after such betrayal. It made no sense to him, but also made perfect sense, hence the complete confusion.

But it was without saying that as you twirled in your outfit in front of him, a grin plastered so large and lovingly on your features, that it made sense.

How could he not love when he had someone like you.

The walk to the restaurant was perfect; he had even taken a moment to slow dance with you when you came across some performers. Your sweet smile meant just for him made Keigo hum contently as he kissed you gently.

Dinner was amazing. The food rich and luscious, entirely to die for that had the both of you moaning about how great it was before laughing because the waitress definitely heard that. After dinner was over, you and Keigo were now waiting on desserts when he simply grabbed your left hand and slid a simple ring over a very important finger before placing a kiss on your palm.

“I know I was at one point too fast, and maybe I think I was too slow to ask this, but would you like to wake up and have chicken with me every day?” Keigo asked, watching as your face went through a million stages of understanding, processing, internalizing, accepting, and pure emotions.

The kiss was sloppy and wet, the tears streaming down your face beautifully, like diamonds in the dark sky.

It was today that Keigo unlocked the last love he ever thought he would have.

Pragma: committed, enduring love.